


Discontinued

by Creep_ily_pyro, Fanboy, glassesandattitude



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: M/M, and also bc if i get rid of the really nice comments here i'll die, this is discontunied but i'm keeping it up if someone wants to reread it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:24:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 40,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9445319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creep_ily_pyro/pseuds/Creep_ily_pyro, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanboy/pseuds/Fanboy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/glassesandattitude/pseuds/glassesandattitude
Summary: Discontinued! In the middle of a rewrite





	1. Raven Tabris: The beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I know. I need to stop. I'm making too many stories and not finishing them. Raise a glass to my unfinished fics, y'all. I'll work on them soon!  
> I hope.  
> Anyway.  
> Big shout out to glassesandattitude and Creep_ily_pyro for reviewing/editing up this story.  
> This first chapter is formatted differently from the rest, it's basically just Raven's own unique background.  
> In other words, I took what was already a heartbreaking origin story and made it even worse. Its heavy on the angst. Again, warnings for allusions to rape/noncon. Which comes with the territory with this Origin I suppose. Please enjoy my own unique take on the Origins story. Raven is a very lovable character and I hope you enjoy coming along in his story as much as I enjoyed writing it.  
> Warnings: Implied rape, implied pedophilia, suicidal tendencies, thoughts of self harm. Stay safe, kiddos.

_ Five years old; 9:09 Dragon _

Red hair flies in the wind as he runs after Soris and Shianni. He laughs, stumbling over his feet as he runs. Big blue eyes are bright and innocent, untouched and unaffected by the hardships of the life he lives. He grabs Shianni’s hand, tackling his older cousin to the ground with a laugh. Shianni squeals and wrestles with him.

“Raven!” She squeaks. “You’re cheating!”

“No I’m not!” Raven protests, laughing breathlessly. His laughter is cut off when Soris, only a year younger then him, leaps up and lands on them both. Raven grunts then starts laughing again, squirming underneath his cousin.

For now, all is right with the world. 

The wrestling, hyper children are mostly ignored by the people of the alienage; the smell of unwashed cloth, wet dog, and food cooking spins through all of the alienage. Cats are meowing, dogs are barking, and rats scramble this way and that. The wooden structures are either weak or already falling apart, and everyone is wearing if not rags then something close to it.

Raven’s mother, Adaia steps outside of the home, a soft smile on her lips. Raven immediately wiggles from underneath his cousin and runs up to his mother, leaping into her arms, with a shout of, “Mama!” Adaia laughs, wrapping her arms around her son and smooching his temple. This only makes Raven giggle and squirm.

Soris and Shianni stand up, pouting and brushing themselves off. “Sorry loves, this little one has to get some food in his belly before we’re accused of starving him,” Adaia says to her niece and nephew, squeezing Raven’s nose. “And that means you too, Shianni.” She grins at her niece, who smiles back and runs up, hugging her aunt's legs. Adaia strokes her hair reassuringly.

Shianni’s mama died when Raven was three. He doesn’t really know what dying means, just that Mama says that it means people go someplace and don’t come back. They don’t know Shianni’s papa, though Shi never stops talking about him, telling Raven all sorts of stories about his adventures as a dalish. However, since her father wasn’t here, Shianni lived with them. Raven didn’t mind- He liked having a constant playmate. Shianni and Soris were his favorite cousins, anyway, so any time he got to spend with them was good time. 

“Soris, you should go home and see if your parents are ready to serve dinner too, sweetheart,” Adaia says, smiling. 

“Okay!” Soris says cheerfully, running off. Adaia chuckles, opening the door and letting Shianni in first while carrying in Raven. Raven wraps his arms around his mother’s neck and hides his face there, taking deep breaths as he smiles to himself. Adaia sets Raven down, and simultaneously he and Shianni race each other to the bedroom to grab their mabari plushies.

The plushies are worn down and old, even though they’ve only had them a year. Between the fact that Shianni and Raven used them constantly and that they were used and old, a bargain deal, in the first place, the plushies looked on their last legs. That didn’t seem to matter to the two, however. “I got Cyri first!” Raven says, hugging his plush to his chest.

“Nu-uh!” Shianni argues. “I got Daya first!” 

“Nu-uh!” Raven sticks out his bottom lip.

“Yuh-huh!” 

“Children,” Cyrion, Raven’s father, warns, causing them both to look up. “Come now. It’s time to eat.”

 

_ Seven years old; 9:11 Dragon _

“En garde!” Raven says, both hands wrapped tightly around the worn, wooden play sword as he dances around in the front yard, blocking his cousins attacks with her two smaller wooden swords. 

“Weak!” Shianni taunts, pressing hard on his sword. Raven furrows his eyebrows. Shianni won every other play fight before this and Raven was determined to win this time. He was sick of Shianni giving him smug looks. 

“Sure,” he says, and then manages to weave his blade from under Shianni’s and whack it (gently, or Mama would be upset) against his cousin's side. “I win!” He shouts, grinning triumphantly. 

“Good job!” Adaia praises, walking over and smooching Raven’s head. Raven giggles happily, pride leaking through his bones. “I knew you had it in you.” She turns to Shianni. “You did a wonderful job as well, Shianni. Here, let me give you a  few pointers…”

Raven didn’t stay to hear the rest. He runs inside, carrying the sword happily. “Papa, Papa!” He says, running up to his father. “I won! I won, I won, I won!” He giggles, pride practically radiating off of him.

Cyrion turns from where he was tending the fire, cooking them soup. “Did you now?” He asks softly. “Good job, son.” Cyrion was quiet and gentle, much different from Adaia. Raven always kinda felt like he was something of a disappointment to his papa, or something was wrong with how he was, because of the always-there worried crease in his papa’s brow.

Raven smiles, though it dims at the traces of concern in Cyrion’s eyes and expression. “Is something wrong, papa?” He asks.

“No, no,” Cyrion murmurs, reaching over and pulling Raven into a hug. “Nothing at all.”

 

_ Ten years old; 9:14 Dragon _

Raven stares. He’s never seen a human before. More than that, he’s never seen anyone with such fancy and nice clothes, or whose hair is done so nicely. He runs out from beneath his Mama’s legs and runs up to the human noble standing in the alienage, talking to the elder. Papa’s cry of worry follows him, but he ignores it. “Hey, hey!” He says, tugging on the man’s robes. “How do you keep your clothes so nice, mister?!” He asks, big blue eyes bright and a giant smile on his face.

“Raven!” The Elder scolds, reaching down to pull him away. 

“No, no, it's quite alright,” the human assures, waving The Elder off. He kneels so he’s at Raven’s height. Raven studies him with bright eyes, still giving a toothy smile. The man has dark brown hair and even darker brown eyes. His smile is kind and welcoming and makes Raven want to talk to him more. Raven’s ears twitch on his head. “I’m Cafias. And you young man?”

“Raven Tabris the First!” Raven announces, grinning wider. 

Caffias chuckles, patting his shoulder. “You seem like a very bright young man. What do you say to getting a job? Nothing too serious, just helping me out here and there, and I can pay you and your family quite well.”

Raven’s eyes lit up. If they had more money, maybe Papa wouldn’t be so worried all the time. “I’d like that a lot mister!” 

“Serah, he’s quite young and excitable. I’m not sure he’s ready for…” the Elder protests, a concerned frown on his face. Raven glares. 

Caffias waves off his concerns. “Like I said, most of it will probably be very fun for him. Feeding the horses, things like that,” he says. The Elder still frowns, but nods. “Have you ever seen a horse, Raven?”

Raven’s eyes get big. “Yeah! I saw one when me and Papa went to the Market once! Their so big!” He gushes. “I ain’t never seen anything like it before!” 

Caffias chuckles. The Elder sighs. “Raven, why don’t you take Cafias to see your parents, see what they think of this?” He asks.

Raven nods, grabbing Cafias’ hand as Cafias stands up. He drags Cafias down the dirt road, grinning excitedly. “Mama! Papa!” He says, walking over. His family shifts, Adaia being the first to step forward. Shianni, meanwhile, hides behind Cyrion. 

“Raven,” his Mama says softly, reaching over for her son. Raven lets go and runs into her arms. Caffias bows respectfully. 

“Hello, serah,” he bows, smiling another one of his charming smiles. 

“Sir.” Adaia bows her head respectfully. “I’m sorry for my son. He’s very friendly and curious,” she says, holding Raven close. 

“Mama he likes me!” Raven says.

“Shush, little one,” his Mama murmurs to him, running her hand through Raven’s hair. Raven pouts and obeys. 

Cafias smiles. “Its no trouble at all, Serah. In fact, I have a proposition for you! I came to the Alienage looking for a bright child like your son. I sympathize deeply with the troubles that face your people here, and want to help make a difference. There’s only so much I can do, I am only a distant cousin of the Arl, but I still want to help any way I can.” He smiles at Raven. “What would you say if I offered your son a job.” He lifts his hands. “Nothing too serious, I promise. I won’t wear the poor boy out. Just little fun things! Like feeding the horses and such, and it pays rather well. We have a full-time servant, but she is getting rather worn down, and she needs a little help, but father would rather not hire another full-time one.” He lowers his voice and winks. “He’s rather stingy.” He smiles. 

Raven squirms with excitement, looking back at his father. To his disappointment, Cyrions face is lined with worry and there's a deep frown on his face. “Adaia,” Cyrion says softly. “May we speak a moment?” 

“Certainly.” Adaia smiles at Cafias. “Thank you for your generous offer- If you don’t mind, I’ll confer with my husband for a few moments and get back to you. Children, why don’t you get to know him?” Raven’s Mama and Papa slipped inside, and Shianni immediately ran from the cover of Cyrion’s legs to the cover of hiding behind Raven, who is (at last) taller than her.

“Oh, it's quite alright darling.” Caffias kneels like he did in the square. “I’m not going to hurt you at all.” He smiles. “I’m friendly!” 

Shianni doesn’t respond. Raven turns his head. “Come on Shianni, stop being so shy. If he was an elf you’d be bouncing all over the place,” Raven says, trying to take on his mother’s scolding tone.

“Yeah, but he’s not an elf, is he?” Shianni says in a hushed whisper. 

“So what? He’s just taller and has round ears.” Raven huffs and drags Shianni out from behind him. “This is my Cousin, Shianni,” he says, smiling.

“Wonderful to meet you Shianni,” Caffias says.

Shianni looks at him up and down, then sighs. “Hi,” she mumbles, plopping on the ground and folding her arms. Raven rolls his eyes and looks at Cafias. 

“She’s being stubborn,” he says in a half whisper.

“I am not!” Shianni snaps.

“Shush.” Raven pouts at her. She pouts back.

Cafias chuckles. “That’s quite a big word, young man.”

“Yeah! Mama teaches us all sorts of cool stuff and she gets as many books as she can. I love saying big words ‘cuz it makes me look really smart and stuff!” Raven says, his ears fluttering with excitement.

Caffias grins and pats his shoulder. “It does indeed.”

It was at that moment that Cyrion and Adaia slip back out. Cyrion remains at the doorway, frowning deeply, and picks up Shiani when she goes running into his arms. Adaia approaches Cafias and Raven again, and Cafias stands up. “We would be honored to accept your gracious offer, serah.” She says, giving a little bow. 

Raven lights up. “Yay!” He shouts, jumping up and down. Both Adaia and Cafias laugh at his excitement.

“Would you two be good with him starting today?” Caffias asks, tilting his head to the side. It reminds Raven of a dog. 

“Raven?” Adaia asks.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Raven says, bouncing up and down again. 

Both chuckle. “Okay.” Adaia says, nodding to Caffias.

Caffias smiles and offers Raven a hand, which he cheerfully accepts. Raven waves to his family as he skips behind Cafias, eager to start his new job.

 

_ Eleven years old; 9:15 Dragon _

Raven sighs, as high up in the tree in the center of the alienage as he could climb, Cyri hugged tightly to his chest. He pushes his face in the plush’s faux fur, breathing hard as tears sting his eyes. He looks out at the slowly rising sun and feels his heart sink. 

_ “Now remember Raven, this is our secret, right?” _

_ “Okay…” _

_ “If you don’t keep it a secret, people are going to get hurt. People like your Mama and Papa and Cousin. You don’t want that, do you?” _

_ “No!”  _

_ “Then you're going to be a good boy, right?” _

_ “Yeah.”  _

Raven remembers Cafias’ words and frowns, pressing himself against the tree. He felt dirty. He hasn’t stopped feeling dirty since the day Cafias started…

Whatever this is.

He reaches behind him and touches his back, wincing at the feeling of the whip marks there. He chews hard on his bottom lip, taking a deep breath and shifting. His bottom still hurts too. He closes his eyes and bangs his head against the tree branch, then winces again as that hurts. He doesn’t talk as much as he used to. Mama is constantly worried about him but not even her hugs can make him feel better anymore. He’s starting that anything can.

“Raven?” Soris’ familiar voice causes him to open his eyes. “What are you doing way up there?”

Raven shrugs. “Nothing,” he calls, softly.

“Well get down, before you hurt yourself!” Soris scolds, worry in his tone. Raven heaves a sigh and slowly climbs down, bare feet scraping on the rough bark of the trunk. He leaps down the last few feet and stumbles to a stop, still holding Cyri tightly under one arm. 

Soris reaches over and starts brushing the bark and leaves out of Raven’s hair and clothes, huffing. “Soris,” Raven says, sighing. Soris continues. “Soris!” He ducks out of reach, fixing his hair himself. He’s let it grow out these past few months, the hair now a couple inches down his neck. 

“Sorry, Cousin. Are you alright?” Soris asks. “You look like you’ve been crying!” He exclaims.

“I have not been crying.” Raven groans, continuing to fix his hair. “Its windy.” He grumbles in explanation.

Soris gives him a sceptical look. “Why aren’t you more excited, it's your birthday!” 

“I am excited,” Raven huffs at his cousin. “See?” He gives a huge grin before letting it drop again. 

Soris rolls his eyes. “You’ve gotten so grumpy,” he grumbles, then pulls out a small box. “Me and Papa got you this.” 

“Aw.” Raven smiles for real this time. “Thanks, Soris,” he says, taking the box and unwrapping it slowly. A small charm in the shape of elfroot sits inside, and Raven grins. “Aw, this is so cute!”

“It’s like a good luck charm,” Soris replies, smiling back.

Raven reaches over and hugs his cousin. “Thanks, Soris. And tell your Papa thanks too.” 

“I will. Come on.” Soris slings an arm around his shoulder and walks with him back to his house. 

 

_ Thirteen years old; 9:17 Dragon _

He didn’t know. 

Maker, he didn’t know.

“I’m sorry, Mama.” He whispers, looking at the body on the boat, hidden from sight by a cloth. Another sob bubbles from his throat and he turns to his Papa’s side, burying his face in his shirt and crying, shoulders shaking as he cries, clenching the fabric of Cyrion’s tunic. Cyrion, too, is crying, Raven can feel his body shivering with the silent sobs. His father’s hand weaves through his hair and he sobs again, feeling the guilt twist tighter in his stomach, tighter and tighter until it felt like he doesn’t even have one anymore. All around him were tears and sobbing and people wishing his mother farewell and he can barely handle it, sobbing even harder. Shianni is at his side, hand in his, and he squeezes tightly, shaking. 

This is all his fault. 

It’s all his fault.

_ “I don’t want to do this anymore.” _

_ “What?” _

_ “I don’t want to do this anymore, Caffias. It makes me feel sick and I hate it. You keep saying how special I am but. Can we please just stop? Please? I promise I won’t tell anyone about it. I just want to stop, okay?” _

_ “Raven, what did I tell you?” _

_ “That I’m a very special young man. But this doesn’t make me feel special, Cafias, it makes me feel dirty!” _

_ “That’s enough!”  _

Raven can still hear the sound of Cafias’ hand against his cheek.

_ “I’ll give you a choice, little bird. Either we continue, or I punish you, and you’re free.” _

_ “P-Punish?” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “...But only once?” _

_ “Only once.” _

_ “Okay.”  _

The beating that Caffias had given him then was nearly too much for Raven to handle and he nearly went back on his word. Even now, his entire body is still throbbing with pain, a week later. 

He thought that was it.

He really thought that that was going to be it. 

But when Cafias...finished with him, he was dropped off at the Alienage. He told his parents that Raven’s work was done and gave them a small bag of sovereigns. 

Then two days later, his mother went out to get them food,

And was found stabbed to death in the middle of the town square.

This is all his fault. 

“Mama,” he whimpers, closing his eyes and sobbing. “Mama…”

 

_ Sixteen years old; 9:20 Dragon _

Long red hair pulled into a braid sways as blue eyes stare at a fence as if it murdered his family. His wooden sword swings and slams into the wood over and over as he practices movements and strategies that his late mother taught him. Breath in. His mind goes blank as his body moves without him even needing to tell it to do so. Breathe out, and dodge the attack. The sword protects you--it keeps you alive. Rely on it. 

He breathes hard and slams the sword against the wood again, until his father’s voice cuts through his haze of thoughts. “Raven,” he says. Raven looks up, letting go of his sword. 

“Yes father?” Raven asks, running a hand through his now messy hair. 

“Would you like to come inside for dinner?” Cyrion asks.

“Yeah. That’d be nice.”

Things were still awkward and tense between the two. Cyrion had tried to take over in role as mother and father, but it was hard to reach out to the son that was so very close to his mother. Raven himself shut down, angry at himself, angry at the world, and more than anything, just. Sad.

He starts to follow his father, picking up the sword, when he spots a figure in the shadows near his house. Lito’s face pokes out and he gives Raven a wicked grin, gesturing him over.

But Lito.

Lito made it better.

“Be right there, Papa,” Raven says. Cyrion simply nods and walks inside.

Raven drops the sword again and runs over to Lito, immediately wrapping both arms around the boy. Lito laughs, arms wrapping around him in return. “Hello, Ven,” Lito greets, falling to the ground from Raven’s force. The two laugh, Raven lifting his head and looking down at the dark-skinned, brown eyed boy.

“It’s been too long.” Raven replies, smiling. 

Lito was the son of a elven merchant, a rather profitable one. One that came from this very alienage. He always dropped by and visited every year, but it was last year that Lito and Raven became close. Very close.

Lito was the one who helped him realize why he never wanted to kiss girls.

Kissing boys felt so much better.

“It has,” Lito agrees, reaching up and threading his fingers through Raven’s hair. “Jeez, Ven, do you ever cut this?”

“Nope.” Raven gives a grin, chuckling and leaning down, pressing his lips to the other. Lito giggles into the kiss, Raven giggling back. Lito flips them over, making Raven laugh.

The wounds that Cafias had left didn’t have as much of a sting as they used too, though the scars remain. He still blames himself for his mother's death, but Lito helped him feel so much better. So happy. Lito had no idea about Cafias or any of that, and Raven didn’t plan on telling him.

Or anyone, for that matter.

No one else was dying because of him.

No one knew about him and Lito either, not even Shianni. Raven had no idea how his father would react, and frankly, didn’t want to be any more of a disappointment then he already is. Lito on the other hand, knew that his father and mother would react badly, and didn’t want to be forbidden from coming back to the alienage. 

“Missed you.” Raven whispers up at Lito, smiling.

“Missed you too. See you tonight? Usual spot?” He asks. 

“Definitely,” Raven says, leaning up for another kiss. Lito obliges, pressing their lips together with a grin. 

 

_ 17 years old; 9:21 Dragon _

“What do you  _ mean _ you're not coming back?!” Raven demands, standing up suddenly, eyes widening as he feels his heart twist in his chest. “You always come back!”

Lito looks at him with sad eyes before looking away again. Raven feels like he’s been stabbed. The night around them is dark, soft birds chirping in the air as they sit on the bare outskirts of Denerim. “Dad wants to stay in Highever next time we go. Mom agreed.” 

“B-But!” Raven sputters. “T-This is what you wanted to tell me?!” He feels like he’s drowning, hands clenching as he shoves them under his arms, hugging himself. “You can’t leave, Lito!”

“I’m sorry, Ven,” Lito says weakly. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Will you come back?!” Raven says.

Lito shakes his head. “Mama’s ill. I gotta help take care of her while Papa’s working.”

Raven sank back to the ground, tears stinging his eyes. He doesn’t say anything, just hugs himself closer. “Lito…” he mutters.

“I’m so sorry,” Lito murmurs sadly, moving forward and cupping Raven’s cheeks, kissing him. “I’m so sorry.” 

Raven tries not to cry and pulls away. This is so unfair. This is so  _ fucking  _ unfair! “You can’t just leave me!” He cries. “You promised, Lito!”

“I know, I know! I didn’t know!” Lito cries, eyes reflecting his hurt.

Raven’s too upset to realize how selfish he’s being when he walks away, climbing the walls of denerim by himself and hiding in his room, crying silently. 

It’s not until the morning that he realizes his mistake.

He shoots up and runs out of the house, racing to the gate, just in time to see Lito walk out the gate behind his father and mother.

“Lito!” He calls, all sense leaving him and replaced by desperation. Lito turns his head. He stares at Lito, swallowing hard and mouthing, ‘I’m sorry.’

Lito smiles sadly. ‘Me too,’ he mouths back before following his parents once more. 

Raven slumps to the ground, feeling sick. He rolls over and starts to empty the contents of his stomach, tears racing down his cheeks. It’s Soris that sees him first and races to his side, asking if he’s alright.

He nods.

 

_ 22 years old; 9:26 Dragon _

“Raven!” Shianni’s excited voice interrupts his  _ very  _ nice dream. It involved a handsome blonde man and cake. Really  _ good  _ cake.

Raven grunts and rolls over, pulling his blanket over his head and tightening his arm around his plush. It reminded him of his mom, so he still slept with it, despite himself. “Go away,” he grumbles.

“Hell no!” She says, grabbing his leg and yanking him out of the bed. Raven squawks as he lands on the ground, throwing a pillow at her head. 

“Shianni!” He yells. 

“Its First Day you dummy!” She says, grabbing his shirt and shaking him. “You know what that means!”

“A bunch of drunk people screaming into all hours of the night?” Raven asks, rubbing his head.

“Honestly, you have no sense of occasion Raven. That’s not what it means, it means a party! Get up and put on some proper clothes you fool! There’s going to be dancing and singing and good food and everyone is going to be there and, gosh, it’s gonna be so much fun!” Shianni gushes, already dressed in a pretty plain-colored dress. Raven groans and walks to the closet, pulling out his best tunic, besides his Winterday one. He slips on the green material, getting dressed slowly. “Come on, you slowpoke!”

“Shianni, if you’re going to rudely awaken me in such a manner, you’d better at least have food,” Raven replies dryly.

Shianni laughs and leaves the room, while Raven continues getting dressed.

It’s going to be a very, very long day.

 

_ 25 years old; 9:29 dragon _

When Raven shoots up out of bed, he’s barely breathing. The images of Lito screaming in agony, of Cafias, of Mama’s bloody body and Papa’s disappointed looks, of Shianni’s barely breathing body and of Soris’ hanged neck, of the Alienage running red with blood and a dragon ravaging the sky still race through his mind.

Half of those things haven’t even happened.

That didn’t stop him from shoving the covers off and tiptoeing out of the house, locking the door behind him before racing to the walls of the alienage, his heart pounding out of his chest. Everything feels suffocating, he could barely breathe, the walls feel like they are closing in on him and he fucking needed out. He scrambles up the walls, following the same paths he and Lito took as he falls over onto the other side, scraping his knees. He barely pays attention, feeling like a frightened child as he scrambles up the outermost walls of Denerim and falls over those too, standing up and running into the nearby woods, where he leans on a tree, panting.

His respite doesn’t last long, as he bends over and starts emptying the contents of his stomach, chest heaving. The images won’t fucking leave, he can feel Cafias’ hands on his skin and the whip on his back; he can hear Lito screaming and the sound of Soris gurgling out his last breaths of life. He can see his mother on the ground, bloody and dead, and Shianni next to her, in a similar state. He can fucking  _ smell  _ the blood that had run through the alienage, all of the dead bodies and screaming children and he heaves again, even though his stomach is already empty. Tears race down his cheeks and he moves further into the woods, not caring how much noise he makes, not caring about the creatures that lived here, not caring about fucking anything. He barely registers the knife in his hand, the knife that he slept with underneath his pillow.

He looks up at the sky and then scowls. 

_ “Are you even fucking here?”  _ He thinks, directing it at the Maker, at Andraste, at everything and everyone. “Do you even fucking  _ care _ ?!” He shouts out loud this time, before crying again, slumping against the tree. 

He finally realizes the knife, and looks down, then at his wrists. Mother showed him once how to cut a throat or a pair of wrists. He twists the knife and directs it at his skin, right on the vein thrumming beneath it. He breathes hard, staring at it, the knife quavering in his hand. 

He closes his eyes, takes the knife away, and sucks in a deep, shaky breath, slowly walking back toward Denerim and the Alienage.

 

_ 26 years old, 9:30 Dragon _

Raven watches as he shoves another bite of soup into his mouth the way that Shianni and his father exchange a look. Shianni stands, holding her bowl. “Well, i’m done. I’m gonna go hang with Denise.” She walks to the kitchen, washes out her bowl, and leaves. Raven watches her go, eyebrow arched as he slowly slips another bite of soup into his mouth.

“Raven,” His father says, and Raven’s blue eyes dart to meet his father’s. “We need to talk.”

Raven freezes. Did he find out about Lito? Or worse, Cafias? Or...Oh god, did he realize that Adaia’s death was his fault?! He swallows the bite of soup in a harsh gulp and sets down his spoon. “Yeah?”

“Son, it’s time we talked about marriage,” his father says slowly. “Past time, really.”

Oh, is that all? That’s fine then- wait. Marriage?! The word sinks in and Raven starts to choke. “Wh-what!?  **_Marriage?!_ ** _ ”  _ He demands, trying to catch his breath. “Marriage?!” He barks  again, eyes wide. “Bu-but--You must be joking! I’m in no way ready for--for--for...For Makerdamned  **_Marriage!_ ** _ ” _

“Raven, I didn’t think I was ready either when I married Adaia. You know how this works, the Elder is already sending word to other Alienages. For Soris, too,” he says, and Raven chokes again.

“Soris--?! Father, have you lost your mind!?” He asks, breathing hard. “I can’t get married- I don’t  _ want  _ to get married!” He cries, eyes wide.

“But you must get married,” his father presses, eyebrows furrowing. “You’re nearly in your thirties, Raven, it’s about time you get to work and start building a life. You should think about children, too--”

“Children!?” Raven leaps to his feet and shoves the chair away, starting to pace. He runs his hands through his hair, clenching and yanking at the strands. “I don’t want to fucking settle down and have children, Papa! I don’t--” He breathes in sharply. “I don’t want to be with a girl at all! The very thought is terrifying! And I  _ do _ work--”

“Stealing from nobles and fencing the money is not work,” his father interrupts.

Raven’s mouth snaps shut. “How did you--”

“Shianni told me. Did you really expect me to believe you got that money from just ‘jobs around town’?” His father asks, and there’s that disappointed look again. 

Raven whirls and leans on the wall, breathing hard. “Damnit, Shianni.” He turns again, looking around. “Father, I--”

“The Elder has already found a suitable match in Redcliffe for both you and Soris. We’ll have things arranged in a few months.” He stands and walks away, leaving Raven in the room panicking. 

“Damnit!” He shouts.


	2. 'Till Death Do Us Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven's wedding takes an unexpected turn, leading to something he would never have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look the feels just contunie

“Wake up cousin. Why are you still in bed? It’s your big day!” Shianni’s voice cuts through another one of those pleasant dreams of the unnamed blonde man. He has those a lot lately.  Raven opens one eye and rolls right over, dragging the covers over his body. “Raven.” Shianni says, yanking the covers off. 

“Must I?” He asks with a sigh, looking up at the top bunk as he slowly sits up

“Yes,” she growls, giving him a stern look. “You  _ do  _ remember what today is, don’t you?” 

__ “Someone’s wedding?” He asks sleepily, blinking as he looks at his Cousin. 

“A  _ double _ wedding! Yours and Soris’!” Shianni announces excitedly. That wakes Raven right up, and he shoots the rest of the way up. “That’s what I came to tell you; your bride, Nesiara, she’s here early!” Raven feels his heart stop and his world tunnels around him. He swallows hard. He doesn’t want this. 

“Great. So I guess I really don’t have a choice. I’m sure the elder brought her here as fast as possible to avoid me running off,” Raven snaps, his voice thick with bitterness as he walks past Shianni to find the wedding clothes she picked out. 

“Raven, why are you so upset about this? Weddings are exciting, and fun!” Shianni whines, turning to Raven and folding her arms. “It’s not the end of the world.”

“For  _ you _ , it’s not.” His vision is blurred as he turns to Shianni. “I don’t  _ want  _ to marry a woman, Shianni.”

“What?” She says, her eyebrows furrowing . 

“I want to be with a man!” Raven snaps in a hushed whisper, aware of his father in the next room as he changes. “I’ve never told him and now it’s too fucking late to turn back!” He whirls, fully dressed now, and walks out of the room, trying to keep calm as he leaves behind the shocked Shianni.

He finds his father in the very next room, staring at the fire. “Papa,” he greets.

“Morning, my son!” He turns to smile at Raven and Raven feels his chest tighten. “It’s your big day! Oh, how I wish your mother could have been here.”

_ ‘Please don’t bring her up.’ _ The instant feeling of guilt and pain that hit his chest made him nearly stumble, but he kept his ground and hopefully kept his expression clear. “Me too.” Raven mutters under his breath, rubbing his shoulder. “What do you need me to do, Papa?” 

“Just a moment, son.” Cyrion reaches over and squeezes Raven’s shoulder. “I have a gift for you. Your mother would have wanted you to have it.”

_ ‘Please don’t talk about her!’  _ Tears stung his eyes as Cyrion presses a small necklace into Raven’s hand. It looks old, but beautiful, with a small, blue gem on the end and chain links holding it all together. “Was this Mama’s?” He asks softly, looking at it with wide eyes as he fingers the gem gently.

“It was. It was passed down from her mother’s mother, to her mother, and to her,” Cyrion says. “It was always her will for you to have it when you were ready to leave.” Raven feels those tears prick again and he blinks hard.

“Th...Thank you, Papa,” Raven murmurs, slipping the necklace over his head and touching it. It feels right somehow. Soothing. Like a little bit of his mom’s presence hangs around his neck. Cyrion pulls him into a tight hug, which Raven returns. 

“You know I will always be proud of you, Raven,” Cyrion whispers.

“I know Papa,” Raven mutters, letting go.

“Well, it’s time for you to go find Soris. Oh, wait,” Cyrion says. “One last thing. The knife-play, swords, those things your mother trained you in? Best not to mention it to your betrothed.”

Raven nods. “I figured as much.” 

“We don’t want to seem like troublemakers after all! Adaia...Adaia made that mistake.” Cyrion trails off.

Raven feels like he’s been punched in the gut.  _ ‘No. She didn’t make the mistake. I did.’ _ Raven frowns. “The humans that killed her made a bigger one,” he growls.

“Raven,” Cyrion scolds softly, then pats his shoulder. “Run off now, you. And enjoy your day.”

Raven gave a tight lipped smile as he walked out the door.

***

“Let go of me! Stop! Please!” Raven hadn’t noticed the human until he had grabbed Denice’s arms, and he immediately reached for a knife that wasn’t there. Damn this fucking wedding! 

“Hey!” He snaps, Soris grabbing his arm to keep him from running up and punching the noble human in the face. Denice wiggled free and ran off, pressing herself against the tree while she stared with wide eyes. 

“It’s a party, isn’t it?” The man purrs. “Grab a whore, and have a good time!” He lets out a cruel sort of laughter that sent every alarm going off in Raven’s head. “Savor the-” He starts to speak again, but Raven yanks his hand out of Soris’ grip and marches right up, shoving the bastard backwards into his damned noble friends. Just like Cafias, only more open about his damned intentions. 

“Fuck off!” Raven growls, his eyes burning. “You don’t get to push us around just because you’re human,  _ scum!  _ Leave them alone!” He snarls, rage burning deep in his stomach. 

The man sputters, his friends gasping and snapping. “He’s the son of the Arl, what do you think you’re doing you damned knife-ear?!” They demand.

Raven whirls on them. “You think that matters to  _ me?”  _ He growls, every instinct telling him to get a weapon and slit these bastards throats. “Leave these women alone, you sick bastard!” 

“Silence, worm!” The first bastard slams his hand against Raven’s cheek. However, this just serves to piss Raven off more. 

“Oh, you fucking piece of-” Raven starts, but is dragged back by Soris.

“What do you think you're doing?!” Soris hisses under his breath. “You're going to get us all in trouble, you madman!” 

Raven growls, “I’m not gonna sit around while this bastard tries to rape our women, Soris!” Raven snarls. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Shianni grab an ale bottle and walk up behind the creep, slamming it against his head and knocking him out. Raven grins. “That’s my girl.” He murmurs. Soris buries his face in his hands.

The creep falls to the ground with a groan, head bleeding. “Are you insane?!” One of his friends demands, running up to him. “This is Vaughn Urien, the Arl of Denerim’s son!”

“ _ What _ ?! Oh, Maker…” Shianni whispers, covering her mouth and widening her eyes.

“Maybe his father should have taught him better manners,” Raven snorts, too pissed to be worried. 

“You’ve a lot of nerve, knife-ear,” the other one growls. “This will go badly for you.” The two pick up Vaughn and leave, glaring the whole way. Raven rolls his eyes. 

“Fuckers,” Raven growls.

“Oh, we really messed up this time,” Shianni says, walking up to him and Soris. 

“It’s alright! He won’t tell anyone a elven woman took him down!” Soris squeaks.

“Please. The shem deserved what he got. If he comes back, I’ll give him more.” He looks at Shianni. “This is why I wanted a sheathe in my wedding clothes.”

“And that’s why I wouldn’t let you have one. You can’t just kill the arl of Denerim’s son.” Shianni glares.

Raven shrugs. “Sure would make me feel a hell of a lot better.” 

Shianni groans, running a hand through her miniature braids. “I’m gonna...go get cleaned up.” She shakes her head, walking away. 

“Is everybody else alright?” Soris asks.

“Well I’m pissed.” Raven grumbles, folding his arms. Two women approach them and he sighs. He’s never seen them before--they must be his and Soris’ brides.

“I think we’re just shaken. What was that about?” One asks. She has brown eyes and a sharp nose, her hair a dirty blonde and pulled back into a neat ponytail, two braids leading up to the ponytail itself. 

Soris laughed, nervously. “Looks like the Arl’s son started drinking too early.”

“Or, you know, he’s just a bastard rapist,” Raven speaks up, eying the other woman down.

She was a platinum blonde with similar brown eyes and a pretty dress on. Between his fury at Vaughn and his reluctance to go through with this damned wedding in the first place, he’s on edge. 

Soris coughs. “Well, um, let’s not let this ruin the day. This is Valora, my betrothed,” Soris says, nodding to the woman that spoke.

“Then you must be mine,” Raven says, looking at the other woman. What was her name again? Oh. Nesiara. 

“I am lucky to have finally seen you with my own eyes,” she replies softly, a smile on her face. “Your father has told me much about you.”

Oh, sweet Andraste’s tits. She’s a romantic. Fucking fucker fuck on a flying  _ pig _ . Why did she have to be nice? Couldn’t she have been a bitch so that it was easier to hate her? 

“I’m sure the two of you have a lot to discuss,” Soris says, interrupting Raven’s thoughts. He gestures for Valora to follow him, and she does, while Raven pleads with him with his eyes to come back. 

“Well, here we are,” Nesiara says, turning to Raven. “Are you nervous?” She asks.

Raven doesn’t meet her eyes. “Yeah.” He says, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Is something wrong?” She asks, studying him.

Shit. She’s perceptive. “I…” He glances at her and nibbles on his lip. “I don’t really-”

“Come on cousin,  we should let them get ready.” Soris’ voice interrupts him, right in his ear, and he turns to glare at him. 

“We’ll see you two in a bit. Don’t disappear on us!” Valora teases. 

“Or we’ll hunt you down!” Nesiara giggles.

“Um,” Raven says, blinking. 

__ “Don’t look now, but we may have another problem,” Soris says.

“Oh. Great,” Raven growls sarcastically, coming to Soris’ side. “What is it?”

“Another human just walked in. Could be one of Vaughn’s or just a random trouble maker,” Soris says. Raven turns his head to look and frowns. The man is in full armor with weapons on his back, which immediately sends Raven on guard. He has light brown skin and black hair pulled into a ponytail with a thick beard and dark brown eyes. 

“Let’s go talk to him.” Raven says with a sigh. He touches the end of his braid, tugging on it with a sigh. He approaches the guy, on edge and on guard. 

“Good day.” The man says, crossing his arms and doing a respectful bow. “I understand congratulations are in order for the impending wedding.” 

Raven sizes him up with his eyes. Respectful, polite, but so was Cafias. Could be after something or someone. What’s he doing here anyway? “Good day,” he replies, bowing back. Starting a fight could lead to disaster. Might as well dig and find out what he wants first. “Do you have business here, Serah?” He asks. 

“I do.” The human replies. “I believe, however, that I may have already found what I was seeking.”

The vagueness was completely unnecessary. “Ah. So you’ll be leaving, I presume?”

“I’m sorry, but I have no intention of leaving,” the man replies with a small smile. 

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re here for, but there are plenty of drunk elves right now who really don’t like humans. I don’t want a fight to break out and I don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Raven explains, eying the human. Damn humans and their tallness.

The man smiles. “He keeps his composure even when facing down an unknown and  _ armed  _ human. A true gift, wouldn’t you say, Valendrian?” The Elder approaches, a smile on his face.

“I would say that Raven has a habit of doing things that aren’t his job.” He reaches over and ruffles Raven’s hair. Raven ducks his head away, fixing his hair back in place and glaring.

“I just did this,” he mutters. 

“It is good to see you again, my old friend,” the elder says to the man. “It has been far too long.”

The man smiles. Raven sighs and gives a small bow. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were a friend of the Elder.” 

“I was hardly forthcoming, and for that I apologize,” the man replies, bowing in return and smiling.

_ “You can say that again,”  _ Raven thinks, but he smiles and nods. 

“May I present Duncan, head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden,” the Elder says, smiling. 

“Gray wardens?” Raven’s eyebrows shot up to his head. “You’re a...A gray warden?” His mother never stopped telling grand stories of the gray wardens and their bravery and heroism. He’s always wanted to meet one. 

Duncan chuckles. “I am.” He smiles. 

“Well met,” Raven says, containing his excitement.

“And you, lad,” Duncan replies. 

“My question remains unanswered. Why  _ are _ you here Duncan?” The elder asks.

“The worst has happened. A blight has begun. King Cailan summons the Grey Wardens to fight the Darkspawn horde beside his armies at Ostagar.” Raven’s eyes widen.

“Yes, I heard about the blight,” the Elder says slowly. “Still, this is an awkward time. There is to be a wedding. Two, in fact.” 

“So I see. By all means, attend to your ceremonies. My concerns can wait, for now,” Duncan says smoothly. 

“Very well. Children, treat Duncan as my guest. And for the Maker’s sake,  _ take your places!” _ The Elder says, giving them both a stern look before walking off. 

Duncan opens his mouth to speak but Raven quickly jumps on his chance. “Are there elven Grey Wardens?!” He asks excitedly. He quickly realizes he’s acting like a kid again, but he also realizes he doesn't much care. 

Duncan smiles, while Soris gives Raven one of his trademark, ‘You have got to be kidding me’ looks. “But of course.” Duncan folds his hands behind his back. “Some of the best Grey Warden’s I have known have been elven. Being underestimated can have a huge advantage. In fact, I once tried to recruit someone from this very alienage.” 

Raven’s eyes light up, and Soris tilts his head in surprise. “Really? Who?” Raven asks.

“Your mother,” Duncan says, nodding to Raven.

Raven’s first reaction is the punch-to-the-gut guilt he feels every time someone brings up his mother. The second is delight. “Really?” Raven half grins. “Mother would’ve made an amazing warden.”

“Warden’s die,” Soris mumbles.

Raven turns his head to look at Soris. “Yeah, well, so did she. At least she could’ve died doing something to change the world.”

Duncan smiles. “She refused. She told me she was pregnant with you and that she didn’t want to leave her family.” 

“Sounds like Mother,” Raven says with a soft smile. He then chuckles. “Thank you, for telling me this,” he adds, giving a small bow.

“Of course,” Duncan replies. Raven nods and slips off with Soris. 

***

Standing on the wedding platform makes Raven feel sick with nerves. He tries not to cross his arms, instead folding them behind his back like Duncan did. He glances at Soris and his bride-to-be and just feels sicker. Was he the only one ready to run away as fast as he possibly could? He hears muttering from the crowd below and glances down, hearing one of his neighbours whisper, “You know, I never thought that boy would look right with a woman.”

“I know!” The other one replies. “Raven oughta be with a man...”

Raven flushes. Is he that fucking obvious? He sighs and looks up at the sky, muttering a prayer. “I cannot see the path. Perhaps there is only an abyss,” he mumbles, half closing his eyes, remembering a quote from the Chant of Light. Soris gives him a weird look and he stubbornly ignores it. His opinions of the Maker has wavered over the years, but his loyalty to Andraste remains strong. The Maker may be an uncaring god, but Andraste was a brave and kind woman. 

“I’m so pleased to finally do this,” Nesiara says, turning to look at Raven with a big smile. Raven tries to force his own. 

The Sister climbs up the steps to greet them, her hands folded in front of her and her Chantry robes neat and clean. The Elder and the Sister both speak, Raven shifting uncomfortably the entire time. He doesn’t know why, but he just  _ knows  _ something is about to go horribly, horribly wrong. His head snaps up when the Sister interrupts herself. “Milord! This is an...unexpected surprise!” Oh  _ fuck,  _ Vaughn is back and he looks angry. Raven straightens up and folds his arms, staring Vaughn down. 

“Sorry to interrupt, Mother, but I’m having a party, and we’re  _ dreadfully  _ short on female guests,” Vaughn says as he marches up the steps, letting out a cruel sort of laughter that sets Raven on edge. 

“Why don’t you go wank off in a Brothel then?” Raven snaps, eyes flashing as he clenches his hands around weapons that aren’t there. “It’s where you and your kind belong anyway.” 

Vaughn laughs. “Oh, you again. Quite the feisty one.” Raven feels his blood boil. 

“Milord, this is a wedding!” The sister snaps disapprovingly, eyes flashing.

“Ha! If you want to dress up your  _ pets  _ and have tea parties, that’s your business. But don’t pretend this is a proper wedding.” He gets right up in the Sister’s face, and she takes a step back. Vaughn smirks. “Now, we’re here for a  _ good time,  _ aren’t we boys?”

“Oh you people are fucking pigs!” Raven snaps, about to launch at the fucker when Soris yanks him back. He whips his head to face his cousin and glares. 

One of Vaughn’s friends laugh. “Ha! Just a good time with a ladies, that’s all.” The other laughs with him. Raven feels sick.

“Let’s take...those two, the one in the tight dress and...Where’s the bitch that bottled me?” Vaughn says slowly, looking around. 

“Over here lord Vaughn!” One of his friends say with a cruel laugh. He grabs Shianni by the back of her dress.

“Let me go, you stuffed shirt son of a bitch!” Shianni growls, wiggling in his grasp.

Raven yanks free of Soris’ grip. “You’d damn well let her go!” He snarls, feeling an animalistic anger rise inside him. “You will not touch her, or any of the women here you sick fucking pig!”

Vaughn downright ignores him, laughing. “Oh, I’ll enjoy taming her. And see the pretty bride…” He turns to Nesiara, and Raven stands in front of him, his entire body feeling like it was on fire with rage.

“The fuck did I say?” He growls. “Do not lay a fucking hand on any of them.” He turns his head to look at the other one. “And let Shianni go you fucker!” He shouts. 

“Ah, yes. The uppity runt,” Vaughn says with a small laugh. 

“I’m going to fucking kill you!” Raven snaps. In a split second, Vaughn’s fist is slamming into his jaw and he’s sent flying backwards, hitting the ground and slamming his head into the wood, the world going black. 

***

When he sits up, his head feels like it's split in half. He winces, hand tangling in his hair as he tries to focus his vision again. “Can you hear me cousin? Are you alright?” Soris’ voice pierces through his haze and he turns to look at him. “Oh fuck, you’re bleeding Raven!” Soris squeaks, reaching over and cupping the back of his head.

“I’m fine,” Raven mutters, waving Soris’ hands away. “Is everyone else?” He asks, wiping the blood on his hands off on his tunic as he stands with Soris. Soris rips off a piece of his own to bandage Raven’s head.

“Vaughn took Shianni, Nesiara, Valora and the rest of the women in the wedding party back to the palace,” Soris says, voice shaking.

Raven nearly stumbles with how fast he whirls on Soris. “ **_What?!_ ** He did what?! And you fucking- You all let him do that. You all let him take them away.” He turns to face the rest of the crowd, not sure if he’s angry, disappointed, or frustrated. “How could you let him do that?!” He practically screams. 

“Raven, he’s the Arl’s son, we couldn’t--” Soris tries to reason with him, but he’s too pissed.

“He took Shianni!” Raven snarls, whirling on Soris again. “Do you think she’ll be the same after we let Vaughn go through with this?! Do you not realize how something like that can change someone?” Raven asks, his voice softening and quavering and his eyes watering. Soris stares at him, brown eyes wide with shock at Raven’s anger. The crowd below shifted as the Elder tries to calm them down. Raven stomps down the steps, pushing through the crowd and right up to Duncan. “Why didn’t  _ you  _ stop him! You’re a fucking Gray Warden, you could’ve taken those bastards down faster than lightning!” 

Duncan’s eyes are soft and sympathetic. “I still must abide by the law,” he says gently, taking Raven’s hands as tears start to race down his cheeks.

“So there’s nothing we can do!?” He demands, voice cracking. 

“Running after them will just make things worse,” Elva grumbles.

Raven whirls on her. “Shut up, you petty bitch. You only care about your own fucking hide.” 

The crowd gasps at his anger and he just glares at them. One of the men in the crowd speaks up. “I agree, we can’t just do nothing! They took my sister!” Raven shoots him a proud look. At least someone has sense.

“We have to go after them!” Raven growls.

“Normally, I’d council patience--”

“Which is bullshit,” Raven snaps. The Elder sends him a furious glance. 

“However.” The Elder continues. “Stories of the Arl’s son and his appetites are...Most disturbing.”

Raven shudders. “We need to do something.  _ Now. _ ” 

“But what can we do?” Another from the crowd asks. “We’re talking about the Arl’s palace. Even with the Arl and his knights gone, it’s going to be heavily guarded.”

Raven is tempted to snap at him, too. Granted, he’d like to storm the entire place himself but, the man is right. He sighs. “Elder, may I offer a suggestion?” A soft spoken man speaks up, his words quiet in the crowd. Raven’s gaze swivels to him. “I work inside the palace. I could sneak one, perhaps two others in through the Servants entrance. Nobody will notice an extra pair of elves looking around.”

Raven’s eyes light up. “We could be in and out before anyone could tell the difference.” He says, hope building inside him. He will not let what happened to him happen to Shianni.

“I’m with you of course.” Soris says from behind him. “But if we run into trouble, we won’t be able to talk our way out of it.” 

Raven half smiles.  _ Who said anything about talking?  _ he thinks. “For that, you will need weapon’s,” Duncan says, and Raven fully smiles. “Allow me to offer you my own longsword and bow. People should be allowed to defend their loved ones properly.”

“Thank you, Duncan,” Raven says. Inwardly, he’s thinking that he really really wants that sword. 

“Then your path is set.” The Elder heaves a sigh. “I pray the Maker looks on you with favor.”

“Though all before me is shadow, yet shall the Maker be my guide,” Soris whispers and Raven sighs. 

“You’re all insane! The guards will burn our homes down around us!” Elva screams. 

Raven whirls on her as the anger bubbles back up. “Oh, and I’m sure that it matters much more to you that your hide is saved and not that women are about to get fucking raped. I’m sure that as long as it doesn’t affect you, you don’t care.” Elva shuts her mouth and glares.

“I’ll make sure the way is clear.” The soft spoken elf speaks up again. “When you’re ready, meet me at the alienage gate.” 

Raven nods, and Duncan hands them their weapons. He turns to the man who protested not going after the women, and asks, “Can I borrow your belt?”

He nods, and Raven pulls the belt on tight and slips the sword into the space between the belt and himself. “Thanks,” Raven says. His hand wraps around the hilt as he walks to the gate, Soris falling into step beside him.

***

Raven walks through the castle halls, hand clenching on the hilt of Duncan’s sword again. He hears men speaking behind a door, and he presses against the wall and signals Soris to be quiet as he pulls out the sword. “One less knife-ear breeder in the world.”

“Shame, though. Quite a body on that one.” The other one laughs.

“She’s still warm. How picky are you, anyway?” Another asks.

Raven grits his teeth hard. He kicks open the door, not even giving anyone a chance to speak when he runs up on one of the guards, shoving the sword in his hands into his throat and yanking it straight through, causing his head to half fall of his neck, body falling to the ground with a harsh thump. The blood had splattered all over Raven and he feels a rush of sick satisfaction race through his veins. The other two charge on him. He whirls, shoving the now bloody sword into the second one’s chest, twisting it in his chest and watching as his face crumpled with pain. Raven pants, his mind going blank and the only emotion he’s feeling is anger and satisfaction as he watches these bastards die. The last hits him, his sword slicing through Raven’s arm. Raven yanks the sword out of the guard’s chest and is about to whirl on the last one when Soris’ bow slams into the guy’s neck. He crumples to the ground with the rest of them and Raven lets a grin spread across his face. Panting and blood covered, he wipes his hand against his mouth, only succeeding in rubbing the blood across his lips.

Soris stares at him for a long time, lowering the bow slowly. He gives a nervous laugh, then looks on the ground. “Oh no...” he whispers. “They killed her! I can’t believe this. ” He says, blinking back tears, and walking to the first body on the floor.

Raven looks down as well and his heart twists.  _ Dammnit,  _ he thinks. “We need to save the others,” he says firmly. “If anything happens to Shianni I’ll--” His hand tightens on his sword. “I will fucking paint the walls with blood.”

Soris looks at him with wide eyes. “Uh,” he mutters. “We--we should hurry.” He stands. Raven nods in agreement and the two venture further into the palace.

Raven doesn’t understand why, but with every time he slices a guard's chest open he feels this sick rush, this incredible high of satisfaction. These makerdamned bastards are getting exactly what they deserve and it makes Raven feel empowered. He hates himself for it, but he can’t stop. He eventually finds a much longer sword, like the one he and mother trained with, and he puts Duncan’s away as he grips that one. He makes sure Soris stays out of the line of fire, shooting from afar, and Soris barely gets any blood on him. For that, he’s grateful. He doesn’t think Soris can handle much. The larger sword allows him to easily slice through heads and limbs, killing the bastards in an instant and it feels amazing. He’s covered in blood, he can smell it everywhere, but with each new splatter he feels more and more strong. 

He both hates and loves the feeling.

When he finally gets to Vaughn’s room, he’s soaked with blood and his anger is at an all-time high. “My my. What have we here?” Vaughn purrs as he turns to face them. Raven growls under his breath, then glances around the room. When he sees Shianni on the ground, curled up with tear streaks on her cheeks, his stomach lurches. 

“Shianni,” he whispers, hand tightening on his sword. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll make short work of these two,” one of Vaughn’s friends taunts.

“Quiet, you idiot! They’re covered with enough blood to fill a tub! What do you think that means?!” Vaughn snaps.

“It means that I’ve killed every single one of your guards and that your palace is running red with blood,” Raven snarls, eyes darting to Vaughn’s. “And it means you’re next on the chopping block.” He steps closer, fury making his vision go dark around the edges as he grabs Vaughn by his tunic and yanks him close. “And trust me. I’m going to make it  _ hurt. _ ” His voice is dripping with venom and fury, his hands shaking with the force of it as he touches the edge of his sword to Vaughn’s chin. 

Vaughn’s eyes widen with fear and he swallows. “W-wait! Let’s, let’s not be too hasty here!” He gives a nervous laugh. “Surely, we can, uh, talk this over?” He asks, voice cracking in nervousness.

Raven lets a small smile creep onto his lips as he leans a little closer. “Do I look like the type of guy you can talk things over with?” He hisses under his breath. 

Shianni’s sobbing distracts Raven, his eyes darting to his cousin as his heart twists. “Pl-please. Just-Just get me outta here,” Shianni whimpers, lowering her head to the ground. “I wanna go home…” 

Raven’s heart breaks. 

“We’re gonna go home, Shianni,” he murmurs. “It’s gonna be okay.” 

Vaughn looks back at him. “Think for a minute,” he says slowly. “If you kill me, and you ruin more lives than just your own. By dawn, the city will run red with elven blood.”

Raven snarls. “Is that a fucking threat?” He growls, his sword tilting Vaughn’s head up threateningly. 

“Think about it!” Vaughn insists. “You know how this ends. Or we could talk this through, now that you have my undivided attention.” 

Raven smirks. “I very much doubt anything that comes out of your mouth could make me want to kill you any less. But go ahead, talk.” 

“You leave, with a pocket full of sovereigns,” Vaughn says, smiling.

“Okay, that’s it,” Raven snaps, letting go of Vaughn’s shirt so he can step back, grab his sword hilt with both ends and slam it into Vaughn’s neck. Blood splatters all over him as he drags the sword through flesh and bone, watching as Vaughn’s eyes roll back into his head and his head drops to the ground. Raven grins and turns to the other two, twisting the sword in his hand. They pull out their weapons but Raven is already on them, using the sword to slide through their legs like butter, listening to them scream as they fall to the ground and shoving the sword tip into their throats one at a time and letting their screams cut to a halt.

Raven pants, licking his lips clean from blood. Soris stands in the corner, eyes wide. “He-he’s dead. Did. Did we do the right thing?” He asks, voice shaking. 

“There is no one right thing in these situations, Soris,” Raven murmurs, putting his sword away. He’s in a bit of a haze, but focusing on Shianni drags him out of it. “Get the other women and make sure they’re okay.” He kneels beside Shianni, eyes soft. “Shi?” He asks softly. 

“Don’t--don’t leav-leave me al-alone,” Shianni whimpers, eyes tightly closed as she reaches for Raven. Raven takes her hand gingerly, rubbing his fingers over the back of her hand. “Please, please… Take me home. Just take me home.”

“Shh, shh,” Raven whispers, gently helping her off the ground and petting her hair. “It’s okay Shianni. I’m right here, I promise. I’m gonna take you home, okay? Everything is gonna be alright. You’re safe now, I promise.” Raven’s insides twist and he feels sick. Shianni didn’t deserve this. He knows. He fucking  _ knows _ . Shianni isn’t going to be the same anymore--he wasn’t after Cafias. Why didn’t he get here sooner?!

“So much blood,” she whispers, her head going into Raven’s chest as she hides herself away. “I can’t stand to look at it. It--it’s everywhere.” Raven closes his eyes as tears build behind them, petting her hair gingerly and kissing the top of her head gently. “You killed them, didn’t you?” She whispers. “You killed them all?” 

“Yeah, Shianni. Every single one of them. Their never gonna hurt you or anyone ever again,” Raven murmurs, hugging Shianni close to him. Shianni nods.

“Good...good,” she whispers, nodding. 

Soris and the others walk out, looking at him and Shianni. “Is...She going to be alright?” Valora asks in a whisper. Raven looks at her and sighs.

“Yes,” he says, looking back at Shianni. “Eventually,” he mutters, kissing Shianni’s head again. 

Nesiara walks out, standing near Soris. “I...can’t believe you came for me,” she says softly.

He glances at her and then back to Shianni. “I came for Shianni,” he mutters. 

Soris coughs. “We should go. Soon. As in now.” 

Raven nods then gently pulls Shianni away. “Can you stand, Shi?” He asks softly, searching her hazel eyes. She nods, and Raven slowly helps her to her feet. She trembles and falls, Raven catching her. “I’ve got you,” he assures.

 

***

 

Shianni was back home, Soris and Raven had changed out of their blood-soaked clothes into better ones, and they had explained things to the Elder. “The guards are here!” One of the local elves shout, running up to Soris, Raven, The Elder, and Duncan. 

“Shit,” Raven mutters under his breath. 

“Don’t panic. Let’s see what comes of this,” the Elder says.

A passive-aggressive argument begins with the Elder and the head Guard. Raven shifts, nibbling on his bottom lip. “I need names, and I need them now!” The guard demands.

Raven looks around. His heart leaps in his throat. He wasn’t letting Soris go to jail. A quick glance around proves Elva is nearby and she’d give them up in a matter of seconds. He’s prepared to die. He steps forward. “Me,” he says firmly, lifting his chin and staring the guard straight in the eye. “I killed the Arl’s son and his guards.” 

“You expect me to believe one man did all that?” The guard demands.

Raven arches an eyebrow. “We are not all so helpless, Captain,” the Elder says dryly. 

The Captain looks at him. “You’ve saved many by coming forward. I don’t envy your fate, but I applaud your courage.” 

Raven simply nods, staring the Captain down. It’s fitting, he supposes. That he gives up his life. It is only what he deserves after his mother’s death.

“This elf will wait in the dungeons until the Arl returns! The rest of you, back to your homes!” Soris’ eyes are wide and panicked and he grabs Raven’s hand, squeezing tightly. Raven turns to look at him and smiles.

“It's okay, Soris,” Raven murmurs. “Go check on Shianni.” 

Soris’ eyes wetten with tears as he pulls away slowly, breathing hard. “Captain, a word, if you please,” Duncan says firmly, approaching. 

“What is it, Grey Warden? The situation is already under control, as you can see.” 

“Be that as it may, I hearby invoke the Grey Warden’s Right of Conscription. I remove this prisoner into my custody.” Raven’s eyes widen and he turns to Duncan. 

“P-Pardon?” He stammers. Him? A Grey Warden?  **_Him?!_ **

“Son of a tied down--” The Captain breathes in and heaves a sigh. “Very well, Grey Warden. I cannot challenge your rights, but I will ask you one thing. Get this elf out of the city.  _ Today,”  _ he orders.

Raven swallows, looking back at Soris who looked shell-shocked. “Agreed,” Duncan says. Raven feels dizzy and he tunes everything out for a moment as the guards leave. Duncan comes back into his vision. “You’re with me now. Say your goodbyes and come talk to me when you’re finished. We leave immediately.”

“I-- Okay.” Raven swallows, eyes wide as he turns. Soris stares at him then wraps both arms tightly around his neck. He grunts in surprise, then wraps his arms around Soris in return. 

“You saved my life, Raven,” Soris mutters, pulling back and smiling at his Cousin. “I know you're going to be amazing out there. Kick some ass, okay?” He says, then hugs Raven tight again. Raven nods, in shock.

“You know I’d save your hide any day of the week.” Raven chuckles weakly, smiling at Soris. Soris laughs and nods, letting go of Raven. Raven slowly moves deeper into the alienage, smiling and saying his farewells as the people of the alienage hug him and shake his hand. Then he’s standing in front of his little hut, hands shaking as he pushes open the door. Cyrion looks up as soon as he enters, his face wet. Raven feels his chest twist and he stumbles. Cyrion catches him, yanking him into a tight hug. Raven can’t speak, hugging him back. “I love you, Papa,” Raven mutters, eyes closing tightly.

“I love you too, son,” Cyrion mutters, squeezing him tight. He lets go and cups Raven’s cheeks. “Promise me you’ll be careful.” 

“I will, Papa,” Raven murmurs, cupping Cyrion’s hands with his own and smiling. 

Cyrion nods, opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. He considers for a moment, before saying, “Your mother would’ve been proud.”

Raven’s eyes blur and he replies by pressing his face into Cyrion’s shoulder and clenching the necklace he gave him. “Thank you.” Cyrion nods, petting his son’s head. 

“You should say goodbye to Shianni. She’s going to miss you,” he says. Raven nods, pulling back slowly. He walks down the hall, slipping into the bedroom. “Shianni?” He asks. 

“Cyrion told me,” Shianni says softly, sitting in their chair. “You’re going to be a Grey Warden, huh?” She remarks. Her voice is tired and she has a small smile on her lips. 

“Yeah,” Raven murmurs, sitting down on the bed and taking her hand. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine. Everyone’s treating me like I’m some...Porcelain doll, you know?” Shianni mutters.

Raven nods. “You’re strong, Shianni. The strongest person I know.” He smiles and squeezes her hand. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too.” Shianni says, smiling at him. “But you’re going to do awesome out there.” 

“Thanks.” Raven smiles, then his eyes fill with tears. “I’m sorry, I--”

“Don’t apologize.” Shianni climbs onto the bed beside him and yanks him into a hug. He hugs back tightly, breathing in and out slowly. “I bet you're going to meet a man out there.”

Raven chokes, pushing Shianni away playfully. “Shianni!” He says, flushed to the tips of his ears. Shianni grins slyly and pushes back. She still looks worn, but he knows she’s going to be okay. Hopefully. 

She laughs. “Get packed,” she says, standing. “I’m going to go talk to Cyrion.”

He nods, watching her leave. He sighs and stands. He lifts up his pillow, pulling out his knife. He slips that into his belt. He grabs a bag out of the cupboard and pushes some of his tunics and breeches in there, and a sturdy pair of boots. He walks to the edge of the room, opening the small chest where he keeps his things. He picks up the elfroot charm Soris gave him on his eleventh birthday. He pulls out the small pouch of the money he’s collected over the years- It wasn’t much, but it was a start. He tucks that into his belt as well, sighing softly and peering into the chest for anything else he might need or want. He sighs and stands, going back to the bag and slipping the charm inside. He walks to his bed and rolls up the blanket, then grabs Cyri off the end of it. He felt foolish taking the plush with him, but, it was a memory of his mother he wasn’t quite ready to let go. He stuffs both in the bag and ties it off, picking it up and standing. He walks out of the bedroom, stumbling as Shianni tackles him in a hug. He grunts and wraps one arm around her, squeezing tight. “Love you,” he murmurs.

“Love you too, Raven,” she says, planting a smooch on his cheek. He laughs softly and lets her go, and she hops back to the ground. Raven takes one last look at his Father before walking out, taking a deep breath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was Bioware's idea not mine bro


	3. Darkspawn Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a trip through Ostagar and the wilds, meeting some new people along the way, Raven gives himself to the Grey Wardens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woot woot! Updating! In this chapter we meet Marilyn, one of 3 original characters that will appear in Raven's story during the course of Origins (I make no promises for Awakening, any of the other DLCS, 2, or inquisition. You have been warned.) We also meet Morrigan and Alistair! Fun! I hope you enjoy this chapter. <3 Love you guys!

Raven sits beside Duncan at the fire, staring into the flames. They are camping in the Hinterlands on their way to Ostagar. The night is quiet around them, Raven leaning against a moss covered rock. He glances at Duncan, then back at the fire. “Duncan?” He asks softly.

“Yes?” Duncan says, without looking up from where he’s tending the fire.

“So, uh.” Raven swallows, “Why…um... Why did you choose me for the Grey Wardens?” 

Duncan looks up. “I considered it from the moment I met you. You were well spoken, 

polite--but firm. You did not waver, even though you were facing down what was an obvious threat. Then your determination to protect others from injustice only convinced me further. When you were willing to sacrifice yourself in order to protect Soris, I knew that you could be one of us.” Raven nods slowly.

“I see,” he says, thinking over the words that Duncan spoke. 

 

***

 

Duncan discusses with him the current situation going on in Ostagar as they approach the ruins themselves. “The Blight must be stopped here. If it spreads to the north, Fereldan will fall,” Duncan says, worry making his voice tight. Raven nods, folding his arms across his chest.

“So we stop it,” Raven nods firmly.

“Indeed,” Duncan agrees.

“Ho there, Duncan!” Raven looks up from the ground at the sound of a cheerful voice. The man approaching Duncan and shaking his hand has bright blonde hair and equally bright gold eyes. He’s dressed in full golden armor, his smile large and friendly.

“King Calian? I didn’t expect-” Duncan begins. Raven’s eyes widen. That’s King Calian?!

“A royal welcome?” Calian laughs. “I was beginning to worry you’d miss out on all the fun!” 

“Not if I could help it, your majesty,” Duncan says grimly. 

“Then I’ll have the mighty Duncan at my side in battle after all! Glorious!” Raven frowns, finding his excitement to go rushing off into battle unnerving. “The other Wardens tell me you’ve found a promising recruit. I take it this is he?” Calian’s attention turns on him and he gives a respectful nod. No matter what, he’s still a king, and it’s in Raven’s best interest to be polite. At least the man isn’t cruel. 

“Allow me to introduce you, Your Majesty,” Duncan says, and Calian laughs again. 

“No need to be so formal, Duncan! We’ll be shedding blood together after all. Ho there, friend! Might I know your name?” Calian smiles down at him and Raven shifts.

“Raven Tabris, your Majesty,” Raven says, voice hoarse from exhaustion. 

“Pleased to meet you!” Calian exclaims. “The Grey Wardens are desperate to bolster their numbers, and I, for one, am glad to help them. I see you are an elf, friend. From where do you hail?” He asks, tilting his head. It reminds Raven of a puppy.

“The Alienage in Denerim, Your Majesty,” Raven replies, looking Calian in the eye.

Calian smiles. “I, myself, come from Denerim!” He says, sounding rather excited. Raven isn’t sure if he finds his naive cheer and friendliness endearing or unnerving. “Tell me, how is it in the Alienage? My guards all but forbid me from visiting.” 

Raven considers his words for a moment. If he shocks Calian, getting him to see just how horrible it is back home, maybe, just maybe, he’d make a change when he returned to the palace. “I killed an Arl’s son for raping my friend,” he replies bluntly, still maintaining eye contact. 

Calian flushes and his smile drops somewhat. “You...What?” He questions, blinking several times. 

“Your Majesty, I would not have put it so bluntly.” Duncan sends him a look. Raven replies with a half-shrug. “There are events in Denerim you should be aware of.” 

“So it seems,” Calian replies. “I will hear more about this matter later. For now, we have a war to attend to.” He turns to Raven. “Allow me to be the first to welcome you into the Grey Wardens. They will benefit greatly from having you in their ranks.” He gives a small bow. Raven returns it. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but I should return to my post. Loghain awaits eagerly to  _ bore  _ me with his strategies.” Raven arches an eyebrow again.

“Your uncle sends his greetings and reminds you that his forces should be here in less than a week,” Duncan says.

“Ha!” Calian snorts. “Eamon just wants in on all the glory! We’ve won three battles against these monsters, and tomorrow shall be no different!”

“You sound very confident of that,,” Raven comments dryly. 

“Overconfident, some would say,” Calian laughs. Raven has to agree. ‘The best laid plans go to waste, Raven. Always be prepared for disaster.’ That’s what his mother used to say. “I’m not even sure this is a true blight. There are plenty of Darkspawn about, but alas, we see no sign of an Archdemon.” Calian sighs, turning and walking forward.

_ Alas? _ Raven’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. Okay, maybe this man is just a crazy bastard. “Disappointed, your majesty?” Duncan asks, his own tone holding a hint of dryness. 

“I’d hope for a war like in the tales! A king riding with the fabled Grey Wardens against a tainted God…” Calian shakes his head, trailing off wistfully. “But I suppose this will have to do.” He turns back around. “I must go, before Loghain sends out a search party! Farewell, Grey Wardens,” he says, giving them a smile before walking off with his guards. Duncan and Raven both bow in farewell.

Duncan starts walking again and Raven falls into step beside him. “What the king said is true--we’ve won several battles against the darkspawn here,” 

“Yet you’re still worried.” Raven nods.  “I would be too.” 

“Indeed. Despite the victories so far, the darkspawn horde grows larger with each passing day. By now, they look to outnumber us. I know there is an archdemon behind this, but I cannot ask the king to act solely on my feeling.” Duncan stops, turning to face him. 

“We should move quickly, then.” Raven sighs.

Duncan nods. “Exactly. We should proceed to the joining ritual without delay.”

“What do you need me to do?” Raven folds his arms behind his back, ready to get moving.

“Feel free to explore the camp here as you wish. All I ask is that you do not leave it for the time being,” Duncan says. He then explains that Raven needs to find another Warden named Alistair, and summon the rest of the recruits. Raven nods, watching Duncan leave. He looks up at the sky, taking a deep breath. “Here we go,” he mutters. 

***

In exploring the ruins, Raven discovers quite a few interesting tidbits, quite a few of which he calmly tucks into his pocket. He meets the Mabari Warhound caretaker, and meets a Mabari for the first time. He helps the keeper muzzle a Mabari that needs help, soothing the hurt dog and gently petting its head as he slips the muzzle on, assuring him that it’s just to help him feel better. The Houndmaster informs him that if the dog recovers, he might give him to Raven since the Dog seems to rather like him. ‘Imprinted on ya’ is how the Houndmaster phrased it. He also said that there’s a flower that could really help the Dog. Raven said that he would keep an eye out for it.

Right now, he’s trying to find this Alistair fellow.

“What is it now? Haven’t Grey Wardens asked more than enough of the Circle?” An angry man asks as Raven walks up the steps to a small area of the ruins. At first, he thinks it's him the man is addressing but he sees the other man across from the first, leaning on a pillar with a clearly frustrated expression. The second man is blonde, with honey brown eyes, light colored skin and heavy armor on. He’s rather handsome.

“I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, Ser Mage. She desires your presence.” The second man heaves a sigh as he speaks. 

A mage? He’s never met a mage. Interesting. He looks back to the first man as he speaks. “What her reverence ‘Desires’ is of no concern to me!” He snaps. “I am busy helping the Grey Wardens, by the King’s orders, I might add!” 

The grin the second man gives is nothing short of charming, if tinged with exasperation. “Should I have asked her to write a note?” He asks, and Raven has to force down a chuckle at the wry comment.

“Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!” The mage growls, practically bristling like a cat. Raven arches a eyebrow. 

“Yesss, I was harassing  _ you,  _ by delivering a  _ message,” _ the second man groans, the mischievous glint in his eyes clear, along with the incredible annoyance. 

“Your glibness does you no credit,” the mage growls. 

The man sighs deeply, then his eyes light up with mirth and he smirks. “Here I thought we were getting along so well. I was even going to name one of my children after you. The  _ grumpy  _ one.” He snarks. This time Raven does snort, covering it behind his hand. Both men look at him, the second looking delighted his jokes made someone laugh, the Mage looking like he wants Raven to die. Raven dares him with his eyes to try it. 

“Enough!” The mage snaps, turning away. “I will speak to the woman if I must. Get out of my way, fool.” That last bit is directed at Raven, who’s still chuckling softly. Raven follows him with his eyes and arches an eyebrow.

“You know, one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together,” the second man says as he turns to Raven, heaving another sigh and half-smiling. 

Raven chuckles. “I know what you mean,” he murmurs dryly, looking up at this strange human. He likes him.

“It’s like a party; We could all stand in a circle and hold hands.  _ That  _ would give the darkspawn something to think about.” Raven laughs, and the man grins in success, looking pleased. When Raven trails off in his laughter, the man says, “Wait, we haven’t met, have we? I don’t suppose you’re another mage...?”

“Would that make your bad day even worse?” Raven asks dryly.

“No, I just would like to know the chances of my being turned into a toad at any moment.” This time they both laugh, and then the man goes, “Wait, I  **do** know who you are. You’re Duncan’s new recruit!” He exclaims, snapping his fingers in recognition. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember your name.” 

“Raven Tabris,” Raven says once he regains himself, leaning on a pillar. “And you?”

“Alistair,” Alistair says with a smile.

“Ah, good. Just who I was looking for. Kinda wish Duncan had given me more instructions than ‘There’s another Grey Warden here, go find him.’ But hey, guess it worked,” Raven jests, grinning. Its Alistair who laughs this time and Raven feels oddly pleased.

“Well, you found me! Any questions before we head off to meet up with Duncan?” Alistair asks. Raven shrugs. 

“No, I’m good. Let’s get out of here,” he says with a sigh. “Lead the way, Alistair.” 

Alistair nods and walks off, Raven following closely behind. The walk through Ostagar is uneventful, Raven watching the ground sink beneath his footsteps as he walks behind Alistair, who chats to fill the silence. Raven puts in a couple words every now and then, laughing at Alistair’s jokes. When they reach Duncan again, the sun was only a few hours from setting. He watches the sky when Alistair goes to get the other recruits, studying the way the clouds drift. It's weird to him, how peaceful it all seems. Like the calm before the storm. For some reason, the way that King Cailan had talked about the battle tonight had set him on edge, making him think that something is going to go very, very wrong.

“Is something on your mind?” Duncan’s voice cuts through his thoughts and he shakes himself out of his stupor.

“Ah, no.” Raven sighs, folding his arms behind his back, absently mimicking Duncan’s position. He looks over at the sound of quiet words approaching them. Alistair is leading three people, one of them a woman, the other two men. The woman has dark blue eyes that reminded Raven of a stormy day, black hair tied up in a bun, and light armor on. One of the men is thin and a head shorter than the other two, his eyes dark brown and his hair black. He has a easy-going grin on his face. The last man is tall, sturdy, and strong looking, with heavy armor on and mostly shaved brown hair. Following the woman closely is a mabari hound. The woman nods at him, walking close to Alistair’s side, who, Raven notices, is blushing slightly.

“You must be Raven,” she says, walking right up to him and holding her hand out in greeting. “Marilyn Cousland, at your service. Just call me Mary.” She gives a half smile. Cousland. The name sounds familiar, but he can’t place from where.

“Good to meet you,” he murmurs, studying her. There’s something dark in her eyes, something boiling there that reminds Raven of his own inner fury.

“You as well.” She lets go of his hand and steps back. The short thin man steps up.

“Daveth.” He gives an elegant half bow. Raven lifts up one side of his mouth in a half-smile. “And this is Ser Jory.” Raven nods to him too, and he lifts one hand in greeting. “Quiet one, ain’t cha?” Daveth says, his accent decidedly Denerim.

Raven shrugs and half-smiles again. “Suppose you could say that,” he says.

Duncan sighs. “Well then, since you are all here, we can get started. You five will be heading into the Korcari Wilds to perform two tasks.” Duncan describes both, one of which is getting five vials of Darkspawn blood, one for each recruit. Raven finds that decidedly unsettling, but Duncan was dodgy when he asked questions about it. He huffs; must be a Grey Warden thing. The other task they were assigned is finding old Grey Warden treaties in an old Grey Warden ruin in an old, magical, Grey Warden Cache.

_ Simple. _

***

The wilds are creepy. That’s the first thing that Raven thinks when he enters the thick wood, armored up with a huge greatsword leaning on his shoulder. He continuously twists the handle, causing the blade to rotate. He finds it more comfortable to hold it then to rest it in its sheathe on his back- plus, he can grab it at a moment's notice. And here, he thinks that’s probably a good idea. Alistair and him end up leading the way, with Mary not far behind, her Mabari loyally trotting by her side,  and Daveth and Jory bringing up the rear. Raven doesn’t like how much noise they make moving around, the leaves crunching under their heavy armor loudly. 

“You gonna put that up?” Mary asks, nodding to his sword. 

“No,” he replies, glancing back at her. Mary shrugs.

“Fair enough. Kinda creepy here.”

“You could say that again.” Alistair grumbles, holding onto the handle of his sheathed sword.

“It's kinda creepy here,” Mary repeats, a slight smirk playing at her lips. Raven snorts, Daveth doing the same. Jory looks unamused.

Alistair sends them all a look before he laughs too. He sobers. “Part of being a Grey Warden is being able to sense when Darkspawn are near. I’ll let you all know when we’re near some,” he says, sighing and looking around.

“Gotcha,” Raven murmurs, then his head whips to the side as a wolf leaps out of the bushes followed closely by the rest of the pack. Before he can even move, Mary’s left hand, the one not holding her own sword, shoves forward and a fire ball lands in the middle of the pack, blowing the wolves to kingdom come. Raven takes a step back in surprise, eyes widening. “You just shot fire from your hand.” he says out loud, too startled to realize how fucking stupid that sounded.

Mary looks at him and laughs. “What, never seen magic before?”

“No, actually.” Raven eyes the burning wolves. “Didn’t even realize you’re a mage.”

“I’m good at keeping that hidden, kid,” she says, pulling her sword out of its sheathe. 

“Oh,” he murmurs, staring at the fire. Alistair tugs on his arm to pull him away, and he shakes his head to clear it. He was both impressed and still freaking out over she just  _ shot fire from her hand.  _ Not that there was anything wrong with being a mage it just--It’s awesome, that’s what it is. “So what else can you do?” He asks her, letting Alistair lead and falling into step beside her. 

“Not much,” she admits, watching her own steps. “I just have the magic, not the skill.” She shrugs. “My family kinda beat into me never to use my magic.” 

“How come?” He asks, feeling that old, childlike curiosity build up inside him. He wants to know more.

Mary looks at him and smiles. “Parents didn’t want me to go away to the Circle.”

Raven nods slowly. “Ah. I can understand that. When I was a kid, my parents didn’t want me talking to humans. Not the same thing, I know, but I can understand where they were coming from.”

Mary nods and smiles. “They’d have a heart attack now.”

Raven eyes her. “Where do you come from, anyway?”

“Highever. I’m the daughter of Teyrn Cousland.” Oh! That’s where he heard that name! 

“Oh. I had a friend who went to Highever.” He nearly winces at the thought of Lito, shoving the image of the man away in his mind and focusing on what’s going on around him. He hears Daveth and Jory chatting behind him and Alistair seems to be focusing on what is going on around them.

“Oh yeah?” Mary asks, fiddling with her hands. “So, what brought you to the Grey Wardens?”

Raven smiles awkwardly. “Well, uh.” He laughs. “I was about to be married--Not my choice, mind you. I have no interest in marriage- When this jackass, Vaughn Urien, son of the Arl of Denerim, decided he was going to kidnap the women and rape them. He took my cousin, Shianni, which, other than being pissed about it in the first place, really pissed me off because Shianni and I are very close. So Duncan lent me and my cousin Soris his weapons and we went into the castle and pretty much killed everyone and saved Shianni. When the guards tried to take me away Duncan conscripted me, and now I’m here.”

Mary smiles. “Interesting story you’ve got there.” She laughs softly. “Do you miss them?”

Raven sighs and looks up at the sky. “Yeah. I was pretty estranged from most of the alienage by that point though.” He reaches up and touches the necklace hanging around his neck. “Shianni and Soris were my only close friends, and things with my Father have always been...Well. Different, you could say. I never really felt enough for him.” He sighs then shakes his head. “With the Grey Wardens, I feel like… I can do something good, for once.” He’s surprised by how true that statement is. He wants to do something good- and make up for all the bad he’s done.

“I understand.” Mary sighs and looks up at the sky as well.

“How about you?” He looks back at her. 

Mary’s face twists and _ there’s _ the anger he first sensed in her. “Ever heard of Rendon Howe?”

“I’ve heard the name, occasionally.” Cafias had turned out to be his son, but he wasn’t telling Mary that. 

“He was friends with my family. Close friends.” She glares and tightens her grip on the sword. “Always tried to get me with his son, Cafias.”

Raven bristles at the name, swallowing hard at the bile that rises at the thought of him. 

“He was meeting with my father to join their forces and go to join the fight here, in Ostagar. 

His story was that his forces had been slowed by the weather and would be there in a couple days. Duncan, meanwhile, was there to recruit.” She breathes in slowly and says, “Father sent Fergus, my brother, ahead here with the Army. I’ve been looking for him, but Duncan says he’s scouting here in the wilds. I’m hoping we’ll run into him, but…” She shakes her head and continues, “Howe was lying. Thinking back on it, I should have known. I thanked him, for all he’d done for my family and my father, and he got so uncomfortable. He started looking everywhere but me.” She growls under her breath. “Bastard attacked us in the night, with his whole fucking army. Almost all of our soldiers were with Fergus. We were defenseless. His army was ordered to kill everyone. My little sister, Paige, was about 15. The worse of it though was Fergus’ wife and 8 year old son.” She shakes her head. “Duncan managed to get me out of there, but my parents…” She sighs and twists the sword in her hand. 

“I’m sorry,” he offers. It didn’t sound like enough, but it was all he had. He saw Alistair sending her a small smile, one filled with sympathy- but not pity. 

She nods. “It's okay. I’ll find him and kill him,” she says with a half smile.

Raven chuckles softly. “I’ll hold him still for you.”

She grins at him, and he grins back. There’s pain in her smile, but for some reason, he thinks she can sense the same in him.  They’re interrupted by Alistair saying, “Darkspawn approaching,” and pulling out his sword and shield. The two nod, both getting ready, while the Mabari, who Mary had told Raven is named Daisy, gets down in a pounce position and growls. Jory and Daveth both draw their weapons, and Raven tenses. Alistair told him that the first time he had seen a Darkspawn had been terrifying.

He certainly was not disappointed when the thing leaps out of the trees.

It’s fucking horrifying, its skin a pale grey with bits of it peeling and flaking. Its armor is jagged and blood stained, and when it opens its mouth and snarls, its teeth are each as sharp as a razor. It stinks, its eyes a beady black and the noises it makes utterly horrifying. Raven doesn’t even hesitate, attacking it with all his might. His sword is stopped by its sword, the other Darkspawn battling with his companions. He growls, adrenaline overtaking the fear in one quick movement. His heart starts pounding in his ears as he steps back, swinging his sword back and attacking again, this time hitting it, but the sword only bangs off the armor. He searches for a weak spot, and finds it. So, as the Darkspawn swings at him, he dodges out of of the way, swings one final time, and makes a smooth, deep cut through the muscle and bone of the Darkspawns thick neck. It falls to the ground, black blood spurting out of it’s body, splashing onto Raven. The blood stinks worse than the Darkspawn itself, and the blood is warm, sticky, and nearly burning.

He looks around, panting. Many other Darkspawn, dead, lay on the ground, and his companions are covered in the same blood. “Well,” he says, annoyed by how high-pitched and scared his voice sounds. “They certainly are...Interesting.”

Mary looks at her killed darkspawn, which is a combination of burned and frozen in mangled bits on the ground. “Indeed.” She pokes it with her boot. 

Alistair chuckles, eying his bloody sword. “Let’s keep moving,” he says. 

***

Getting four vials of darkspawn blood turned out to be harder than expected. The good news was that Raven found that flower for the houndmaster. He finds he rather likes his companions, especially Alistair and Mary. Jory rubbed him the wrong way occasionally, but he was a good man, if dense.

Walking into the ruins made Raven nervous. He approaches the broken chest first, poking at it with a gloved hand. He frowns. It’s completely empty.

“Well, well. What have we here?” A woman’s voice snaps him out of it and he jumps to his feet, ready to draw his sword if she proved to be dangerous. “Are you a vulture, I wonder?” Raven falls to Mary’s side, the two of them exchanging a glance while Jory, Alistair, and Daveth shifted behind them. “A scavenger, poking amidst a corpse whose bones are long since clean?” She steps down from the ruins and comes to stand in front of them, folding her arms. “Or are you simply an intruder? Come into these darkspawn filled wilds of mine in search of easy prey?” Her eyes are gold, incredible and beautiful. Her hair is long and pulled into a messy bun, her skin pale and fair. She wears a rather revealing outfit, a staff resting in a sheath on her back. “What say you, hmn? Scavenger, or intruder?” 

“Neither.” Raven folds his arms, eying the woman down. “The Grey Wardens once owned this tower.” 

“‘Tis a tower no longer. The wilds have obviously claimed this desiccated corpse,” the woman says calmly, looking him in the eye. He kinda likes her. Kind of.  “I have watched your progress for some time. ‘Where do they go,’ I wonder. ‘Why are they here?’ And now you disturb ashes none have touched for so long.” She walks past them, leaning on a tree across from them. They all turn to face her, lined up in a sort of straight line. “Why is that?” 

“Don’t answer her. She looks Chasind, and that means others may be nearby,” Alistair hisses from his side. Daveth and Jory nod frantically, while Raven and Mary give them a simultaneous sceptical look. 

“Oh, you fear barbarians will swoop down upon you?” The woman asks dryly, pushing off the tree to throw her hands in the air dramatically. Raven resists the urge to laugh.

“Yes,” Alistair hisses, eyes narrowing. “Swooping...Is…  _ bad.” _ This time, Raven does give a soft chuckle under his breath.

“She’s the witch of the wild she is!” Daveth snaps, tense and frightened. Raven is pretty sure his eyes roll back into his head. “She’ll turn us all into toads!” 

“For a witch she sure is polite,” Raven remarks dryly. “If she really is a witch, do you think it’s the best idea to piss her off?”

Daveth looks at him open mouthed while the woman throws her head back and laughs. “Now here is a smart man. Witch of the Wilds, eh? Such idle fantasies, these tales. Have you no minds of your own?”

“My only problem with you is that I don’t know you,” Mary says calmly, leaning on a pillar. 

The woman chuckles.  “Wise.” She turns to Raven. “You do not frighten like these little boys. Tell me your name, and I shall tell you mine.” 

“You may call me Raven,” Raven introduces himself calmly, still meeting the womans eyes. “A pleasure to meet you.” He gives a small half-bow.

“Now, that is a proper, civil greeting! Even here, in the wilds. You may call me Morrigan, if you wish.” She folds her arms and leans on the tree, staring into the distance. “Shall I guess your purpose? You sought something in that chest, something that is...here no longer?”

“Here no longer?” Alistair bristles. “You stole it, didn’t you? You’re some kind of...sneaky...witch thief!” 

“How very eloquent. How does one steal from dead men?” Morrigan glares.

“Quite easily it would seem,” Alistair growls. “Those documents are Grey Warden property and I suggest you return them.”

“I will not, for t’was not I who removed them,” Morrigan snaps, narrowing her golden eyes at Alistair. “Invoke a name that means nothing here any longer if you wish,  _ I  _ am not threatened.”

“If you did not remove them, then may I ask if you know who did?” Raven asks calmly, maintaining his politeness as Morrigan seemed to appreciate that.

“‘T’was my mother, in fact,” Morrigan replies.

“Your mother?” Marilyn demands, face scrunching. “Is this some kind of joke?” Raven waves her off, sending her a look.

“Can you take us to her?” Raven asks  Morrigan.

Morrigan sighs. “There is a sensible request.” She smiles at him. “I like you.”

“I’d be careful. First, it’s ‘I like you.’ Then  _ zap.  _ Frog time,” Alistair mutters to him, arms crossed.

“She’ll put us all in the pot, she will!” Daveth squeaks to his left. “Just you watch!”

“If the pot is warmer than this forest, it’ll be a nice change,” Jory grumbles.

***

The small hut in the forest is almost homey, an old woman standing in front of it. “Greetings, Mother. I bring you five grey wardens who-” Morrigan’s mother cuts her off. 

“I see them, girl,” Morrigan’s mother mutters. “Mm. Much as I expected.” 

“Right,” Raven grunts, taking a leaf out of his hair and narrowing his eyes at the thing. “Well, could we have our treaties? I’d like to get out of this forest soon.” 

Morrigan’s mother throws her head back and laughs, while Marilyn elbows him hard. He arches an eyebrow at her and shrugs. “You, young man, are quite blunt.” The woman has scraggly white hair and dark eyes, her skin pale. “I like it.” Her eyes twinkle as she gives a toothy grin. 

“Are we actually supposed to believe you were expecting us?” Alistair says grumpily.

“You are required to do nothing, least of all believe. Shut one’s eyes tight, or open one’s arms wide, either way, one’s a fool!” Morrigan’s mother cackles as she speaks, grinning even wider. 

“She’s a witch, I tell you! We shouldn’t be talking to her!” Daveth hisses.

“Quiet, Daveth!” Jory snaps. “If she’s really a witch, do you really want to make her mad?”

“There is a smart man. Sadly irrelevant in the larger scheme of things, but it is not I who decides. Believe what you will.” The woman smiles, and her teeth are strangely white as snow. She directs her gaze to Raven and Marilyn. “And what of you? Do your elven and female minds give you different viewpoints? Or do you believe as the others do?”

“I am no fool, if that’s what you're asking,” Marilyn snaps, eyes narrowing. 

Raven steps in there, putting a hand on Marilyn’s shoulder. “I don’t know what to believe, other than you have something we need.”  _ ‘I also believe that I want to get the fuck out of this cold-ass forest,’  _ his mind whispers helpfully.

“A statement that holds more wisdom then it implies. Be always aware...or is it oblivious? I can never remember. So much about you is uncertain, and yet I believe. Do I? Why, it seems I do!” The woman rambles and Raven arches an eyebrow.

“So this is the dreaded Witch of the Wilds?” Alistair half-whispers to Raven, smirking. 

“Witch of the Wilds, eh? Morrigan must have told you that. She fancies such tales, although she would never admit it. Oh, how she dances under the moon!” The woman cackles again.

“They did not come to hear your wild tales, Mother,” Morrigan mutters, hand falling down her face slowly. 

“True. They came for their treaties, yes?” The woman says, suddenly focused again. Raven breathes a sigh of relief. “And before you begin barking, your precious seal wore off long ago. I protected these.” She walks away to her hut, bringing the rolled papers back in her hand. She doesn’t hand them off yet.

“You...! Oh.” Alistair slowly relaxes. “You..protected them,” he says, sounding stunned.

“And why not? Take these to your Grey Wardens and tell them that this blight’s threat is greater than they realize,” she growls, her eyes suddenly going dark.

Raven shifts, then stumbles when she grabs his hand and pulls him close, opening his palm and pressing the treaties into his hand. She leans close and whispers in a hushed voice, “As this blight rages to destroy this world, a warrior will emerge from the ruins.” She grips his wrist even tighter, making his heart pound uncomfortably. There’s an urgency shining in her eyes, one that makes Raven want to run for the hills. “There is a darkness in you, Raven. It may be your only weapon. Use it.  _ Wield  _ it.” Her voice drops even lower so that only he can hear her. “Or it will consume you.”

She loosens her grip and Raven takes the opportunity to yank backwards, eyes wide.  _ What the fuck? _ He shoves the treaties into Alistair’s hands and folds both of his arms tightly against his chest, heart still pounding so loud he thinks everyone must hear it. All of his companions are staring either at him or at the woman. He rubs his wrist, frowning. He feels like someone just reached into him and ransacked his fucking soul. It’s a weird feeling. “Uh…” Marilyn speaks now, shifting herself. 

“Oh, do not mind me!” She laughs and Raven suddenly feels like she’s much more dangerous then she implies. “You have what you came for!” More laughter. 

“Time for you to go then.” Even Morrigan looks uncomfortable, frowning. 

“Do not be ridiculous girl, these are your guests!” 

“Very well.” Morrigan sounds like she would rather be anywhere other than right here at this time. “I will show you out of the woods. Follow me.”

As they walk away, Marilyn leans close and whispers, “The fuck was that woman on about with darkness and shit?”

“Fuck if I know,” Raven mutters, still holding himself, feeling kinda sick after all that. “Let’s just get this shit over with.”

***

It’s dark once they return to Ostagar, and there’s a decidedly unsettling feeling in his stomach. Once he delivered that flower to the houndmaster, Raven follows the rest back to Duncan, letting Daisy rub up against his legs as she sits down between him and Marilyn. As soon as he confirmed to Duncan that they were successful in their journey, Duncan wants to head out. However, the four recruits weren’t having any of it. Actually, Raven just wants to get this started. Its Marilyn, Daveth, and Jory who were still uneasy.

“And what if we have second thoughts?” Mary says softly, looking Duncan in the eyes. 

“Let me be very clear on that point.” Duncan looks them all in the eye at least once, Raven leaning on a pillar with his arms folded, Mary staring Duncan down as if to issue a challenge, Daveth shifting uncomfortably and Jory looking like he’s about to piss himself. “You are not volunteers. Weather conscripted or recruited, you were chosen because  _ you  _ are needed. There is no turning back now. You must gather your courage for what comes next.”

“Courage?” Daveth squeaks. “Just how much danger are we in?” 

“I will not lie. We Grey Wardens pay a heavy price to become who we are. Fate may decree that you pay your price now rather than later.” Duncan says darkly.

Raven stares at the ground, thinking of Shianni, Soris, of his father and of his home. Then, very calmly and quietly, he says, “Whatever price I have to pay doesn’t matter.” He lifts his head, hair falling into his eyes. He knows how dark they must look. Shianni once told him that when he gets scarily-determined about something, his entire demeanor changes. “I want to help people.” He looks out over the ruins, frowning deeper. “I want to stop this blight in whatever way I can.” 

Duncan looks at him and smiles, looking almost proud. Raven feels kinda warm at that. It also seems to make Daveth and Jory shut up, and Marilyn pats him on the shoulder, nodding at Duncan.

***

The temple they arrive at is old and kinda creepy, Raven rubbing his arms. Daisy had been ordered to wait by the fire, and it was just the four recruits right then and Alistair as Duncan got ready. “The more I hear about this joining, the less I like it,” Jory mutters. “Why all these damned tests?! Haven’t I earned my place?”

“Maybe it’s tradition. Maybe they're just trying to annoy you,” Daveth snarks.

“Calm down,” Raven grumbles.

“I only know that my wife is in Highever with a child on the way. If they had warned me...It just doesn’t seem fair,” Jory hisses through gritted teeth.

“Why would you join the Grey Wardens if there was that much at stake?” Raven snaps, patience with Jory quickly coming to an end. “Grey Wardens are all about sacrifice. What did you think it would take, a swing of your sword and then the blight was gone?” He glares. “You had a choice in joining, and you didn’t take the time to calculate the risks that came with doing so. At least try to act like you care about this cause.”

“I’d sacrifice everything if I knew it would end the blight,” Daveth mutters.

“Agreed,” Raven says, looking at the night sky. “We’re fighting for a lot more than us, Jory. The whole world is at stake here.”

“Maybe you’ll die,” Daveth growls to Jory. “Maybe we’ll all die. If nobody stops the darkspawn, we’ll die for sure.”

“Well said,” Raven murmurs.

Marilyn, who had been quiet up until now, says softly, “It doesn’t matter anyway. We’re here and we must do what needs to be done. Now shut up already. You’re givin’ me a headache.” Raven chuckles quietly. 

He turns his head as Duncan approaches, speaking. “At last we come to the joining. The Grey Wardens were founded during the first blight, when humanity stood on the verge of annihilation.” Raven feels a shiver run through him at those words, watching Duncan approach a silver cup sitting on a stone table. “So it was that the first Grey Warden’s drank Darkspawn blood,  and mastered their taint.” Raven exchanges a glance with Marilyn, swallowing hard. 

_ If that’s the price I have to pay, then so be it, _ his mind whispers. 

“We’re going to drink the blood of those...creatures?” Jory’s voice is shaking again, rising just slightly.

“As the first Grey Wardens did before us, as we did before you.” Duncan’s voice is low, hushed, but firm. 

Raven distantly realizes he should be scared but...He isn’t. He feels more certain in what he’s doing than he ever has in his life. He knows, somehow, he just  _ knows  _ this is exactly what he’s meant to do. He glances up as Duncan adds, “ _ This _ is the source of our power and our victory.” 

“Those who survive the joining become immune to the taint,” Alistair says softly, eyes darting from face to face. “We can sense it in the darkspawn, and  _ use _ it to slay the archdemon.”

Raven nods, looking at the other recruits. Jory looks terrified; Daveth looks like he is trying his best not to be; and Marilyn looks nothing if not determined. “We speak only a few words prior to the joining.” Duncan looks Raven in the eye for a moment, before moving onto the other three. “But these words have been said since the first. Alistair, if you would?”

Alistair nods and lowers his head as if to say a prayer, voice dropped to a low murmur. “Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand, vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn.” Raven twitches as a shudder run through him. He can almost feel the power rippling through the air around him. Somehow he feels more than knows that these aren’t just words. “And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten, and that one day,  _ we  _ will join  _ you.”  _ Raven looks at the silver cup, determination flooding his veins. 

_ This is what I am meant to do. I know it. _

Alistair looks up again, honey brown eyes somber. Duncan had turned away and he picks up the cup, turning to them. “Daveth, step forward.” 

Daveth obeys, taking the cup from Duncan. Raven watches, his heartbeat sounding incredibly loud in his ears. Daveth takes a deep breath and takes a gulp from the cup, his fingers trembling around the silver. 

Duncan takes the cup back and steps back, watching. Daveth starts stumbling, convulsing, his hand coming up to cling to his hair as his chest heaves as if he’s going to throw up. His head snaps up again and his eyes have turned a glossy white. He hears Jory hiss a curse to his right, Marilyn sucking in a sharp breath and stumbling back. Daveth cups his throat, falling to the ground, choking, sounding as if he can’t get any air back in, and then he falls fully. “I am sorry, Daveth,” Duncan murmurs, as Daveth gives a final twitch before falling still.

“Step forward, Jory.” Raven is still staring at Daveth, and finally tears his gaze away to look at Jory, who’s pulling out his sword. 

“But… I have a wife, a child! Had I known…” Jory’s voice is shaking, his eyes wide. 

“There is no turning back.”

“No! You ask too much! There is no glory in this!” Jory squeaks, his eyes wide as he backs away, sword held in a defensive position.

Duncan slowly sets the cup down and draws his own dagger, walking forward. Raven closes his eyes and clenches his fists. It’s only a few seconds of fighting until there’s a squelch of blade hitting flesh and Duncan’s voice, “I am sorry.” 

When Raven opens his eyes again, Jory is on the ground, blood pooling around him. Marilyn hasn’t moved from her position at his side, though he registers that her hand is clinging to his upper arm, tight and harsh. He gives her a questioning look, noticing his own hands are trembling.

“Trying not to light anything on fire,” she whispers as an explanation.

“The joining is not yet complete.” Duncan turns to them both, holding the cup. “You are both called upon to submit yourselves to the greater good.” Marilyn lets go of him and reaches, taking the cup with shaking hands. Raven finds himself praying, which he hasn’t done in years.

_ Please, for the love of the Maker. I don’t want another good person dying. Please let her be strong enough. _

She takes it in one rough gulp, her eyes closing. She shoves it back in Duncan’s hand and stumbles back. His stomach lurches. Her eyes turn white like Daveth’s, but she doesn’t start choking; she just stumbles and falls, both Raven and Alistair hurrying to catch her, Alistair beating him too it. 

“She’s still breathing.” Alistair lets out a sigh of relief as he says this and Raven’s shoulders slump.

“Thank the Maker,” he murmurs, then turns as Duncan hands the cup to him. Duncan doesn’t say anything, just looks him in the eye and nods. He takes the cup, staring at the swirling, black contents. 

He puts it to his lips, tilts his head back, and gulps. 

It tastes disgusting, making him gag as he hands  it back and stumbles, nearly falling. A indescribable pain shoots through him, his head feeling like it’s been split open. He can’t hear anything anymore, barely registers his own hands holding his head.

‘ _ Green, dark against the sky...I’m floating. Where am I? Dragon--no, not dragon--  _ **_archdemon_ ** \-- i _ t roars, I can smell it’s breath, I can’t breathe, can’t think, no, no, no, no--!’ _

Everything goes black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, comments, bookmarks/subscriptions will always make my day. Thank you so much for reading! Btw, side note, dreams will always be in First Person POV. :)


	4. Betrayal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Darkspawn battle begins, shit goes down, and things are looking grim for our elfy Warden!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so like I fucking hate this chapter :> The only thing I like about this chapter is Raven, Marilyn, and Alistair being a couple of salty bitches at the beginning. Just a note in case you picked up on the change of pace: I realized that in general those reading this have played DA:O and know what's going on, and those who haven't (*cough* my friends i've forced to read this so that I don't panic and stop writing it bc I think its garbage) are more intrested in seeing Raven's character then anything else. So, for the future, i'm probably going to just summarize the events of quests until we get to big events and/or interactions with other characters. Such as the first time we meet Conner in Redcliffe. The main focus will be on interactions with characters, Raven himself, and occasianally, Raven being a shipping fuck in the corner.

When Raven wakes up, his heart is pounding and his head fucking hurts. He sits up, Duncan, Marilyn, and Alistair peering over him. “You okay?” Marilyn asks before the other two can speak, blue eyes concerned. He nods, stumbling as she and Alistair help him up, holding his head.   
“It is done. You are both Grey Wardens now,” Duncan says calmly, watching them both.  
“Two more deaths.” Alistair sounds sad, a little lost. “During my joining, only one of us died, but it was...horrible. I’m glad you both made it through.” He smiles at them and Raven musters up enough strength to smile back.  
“How do you feel?” Duncan’s quiet voice draws Raven’s attention to him.  
“Like someone just dropped a house on me,” Raven mutters.   
Both Alistair and Marilyn chuckle, the latter of which grinning and muttering, “Me too.” Even Duncan gives a tiny smile.  
“Did you have dreams too?” Marilyn asks. “I had terrible dreams.”  
Raven chuckles and runs a hand through his hair, which had started to unravel from its tight braid. He starts to braid it again as he says, “I’ve had worse.”   
Marilyn blinks and then chuckles, saying, “Andraste’s tits, what kind of dreams are you having? You must be eating some weird shit before bed.”  
Both him and Alistair laugh at that. Duncan is quiet as he says, “Dreams like the ones you had come when you begin to sense the darkspawn, as we all do. That and many other things can be explained in the months to come.” Raven frowns, tying his hair off with a small cloth. For some reason, he feels like they don’t have the months to wait.   
“Before I forget, there is one last part to the joining,” Alistair says. “We take some of the blood and put it in a pendant. Something to remind us of...of those who didn’t make it this far.” Raven nods. Alistair hands both him and Marilyn one, and they both slip the pendants over their heads.   
“Take some time. When you are ready, i’d like you to accompany me to a meeting with the king.” The last bit is directed at him, and Raven frowns, wondering silently, ‘Why would he want me at the meeting? Alistair or Marilyn would be much better suited. It's not like I have any idea how to act around nobles.’  
Still, he nods. “Very well.”   
“The meeting is to the west, down the stairs. Please attend as soon as you are able.” Duncan turns and walks away, leaving the three left to gather their senses.  
Raven nearly jumps out of his skin when Marilyn’s hand comes down heartily on his shoulder. “Well,” she says with all the false cheer of someone who’s fully prepared to cover up how they just went through hell. “That certainly was an adventure.”  
Raven laughs, near hysterics. His stomach is rolling and his chest feels tight, his breath coming a little faster than what he was comfortable with. “Right,” he mutters, leaning against one of the pillars as he tries to calm himself down.  
Alistair smiles at them both, running a hand through his hair. Raven notices blandly that both Jory and Daveth’s bodies are gone, and he asks, “How long was I out?”  
“About an hour, a little longer than Mary,” Alistair replies. “Anyway, you should probably get to that meeting. You might miss it; Calian would cry; you’d feel bad, and it’d just be a big mess.” Mirth twinkles in his eyes again as he attempts to lighten the mood, and it works, both Mary and Raven chuckling.  
“We wouldn’t want that.” Raven sighs, “I don’t understand why Duncan wants me there of all people, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Marilyn smiles and ruffles his hair, making him grunt in disapproval as she and Alistair head off.  
Raven takes a moment to himself, leaning heavily on the pillar and rubbing his aching head. _‘Who would’ve guessed? Me. A Grey Warden. Maker, this whole thing is insane.’_ A dry laugh escapes him. _‘Wonder what Cafias would have to say about this.’_ Immediately, his stomach turns at the thought of his childhood torment, and he shakes his head, trying to shake memories of the man out of him. He hates how he always thinks on what happened, wishing he could just forget about it already and move on.   
With that at the back of his mind, Raven finally manages to gather himself enough to go down the steps and follow Duncan’s directions to the meeting.   
Almost as soon as he approaches the meeting table, he hears Calians voice, sounding on the verge of angry. “Loghain, my decision is final.” There’s that Loghain name again. “I will stand by the Grey Wardens in this assault.”   
As Raven goes around the table to join Duncan, he studies Calian and a new man, presumably Loghain. Loghain looks worn and pissed, his lips set in a thin line and his jaw clenched. His black hair is shoulder length and his eyes a dark, boiling brown. He’s the picture of the type of man Raven avoids, nowadays. Angry, imposing, and dangerous. “You risk too much, Calian!” He growls. His voice is low and gravelly, and tinged with a mixture of anger and concern. “The darkspawn horde is too dangerous for you to be playing hero on the front lines.”  
Raven would feel sorry for him, if everything about the man wasn’t setting him on edge. Ever since Cafias, he’s learned to trust that little nagging instinct in the back of his mind that he completely ignored as a child.   
“If that’s the case, perhaps we should wait for the Orleasian forces to join us after all,” Calian counters, Raven surprised by how ice-cold his voice is.   
“I must repeat my protests to your fool notions that we need the Orleasians to defend ourselves,” Loghain growls. Raven crosses his arms from where he sits beside Duncan. The war with the Orleasians wasn’t too long ago if he’s remembering right. Loghain looks just old enough to have been in it.   
“It is not a ‘fool notion’; our arguments with the Orleasians are a thing of the past...And you will remember who is King.” Calian’s eyes narrow and Raven is faintly impressed.  
“How fortunate that Maric did not live to see his son ready to hand Fereldan over to the ones who enslaved us for a century!” Loghain growls, massaging his forehead.   
“Then our current forces will have to suffice, won’t they?” Calian turns away to face Duncan and Raven, asking, “Duncan, are your men ready for battle?”   
“They are, your majesty,” Duncan replies smoothly.   
“And this is the young met from Denerim I met earlier?” Calian turns his golden gaze to him and Raven nods. “I understand congratulations are in order.”  
“Thank you, your Majesty,” Raven mumbles, shifting uncomfortably. He doesn’t like every pair of eyes around the table focused on him, and he certainly doesn’t like Loghain’s scrutinizing glare.   
“Every Grey Warden is needed now. You should be honored to join their ranks.” Calian smiles.   
“I am,” Raven assures, hoping the attention will turn elsewhere, and fast.   
“Your fascination with glory and legends will be your undoing, Calian. We must attend to reality,” Loghain snaps sharply.   
“Fine. Speak your strategy,” Calian grumbles. “The Grey Wardens and I draw the darkspawn into charging our lines, and then…?” Calian leans over a map, and Loghain joins him.   
“You will alert the tower to light the beacon, signaling my men to charge from cover,” Loghain replies, eyes narrowing.  
“To flank the darkspawn, I remember. This is the Tower of Ishal in the ruins, yes? Who shall light this beacon?” Calian tilts his head.  
“I have a few men stationed there. It is not a dangerous task, but it is vital.” Calian nods when Loghain finishes speaking.   
“Then we should send our best. Send Alistair and Raven to make sure that it is done.” Raven frowns.   
“Very well, your majesty.” Raven wants to be fighting in the battle, but he’d rather not argue with a King.   
“You rely on these Grey Wardens too much,” Loghain mutters, not as quiet as he thinks he is. Raven’s ears twitch.“Is that truly wise?”   
“Enough of your conspiracy theories, Loghain,” Calian snaps. “Grey Wardens battle the blight, no matter where they’re from.”   
_‘Hello, yes, we’re right in front of you two. You can act like it now,’_ Raven thinks bitterly, ears twitching more.   
“Your Majesty, you should consider the possibility of an Archdemon appearing,” Duncan interjects, frowning.  
“There have been no signs of any dragon in the wilds,” Loghain says.  
“Is that not what your people are here for, Duncan?” Calian asks.  
“I… yes, your Majesty.” Duncan sighs.  
_‘Idiots. Yes, because a handful of people can kill a unexpected Dragon on our own. Great plan.’_ Raven sighs, feeling his ears press against his head.  
“Your majesty, the tower and its beacon are unnecessary.” A man who had been silent before suddenly speaks up. “The circle of Magi--”  
“We will not risk any lives for your spells, mage!” A chantry woman hisses, “Save them for the darkspawn.”  
“Enough!” Loghain snaps. “This plan will suffice. The Grey Wardens will light the beacon.”  
“Thank you, Loghain.” Calian’s voice takes on a dreamy quality. “I cannot wait for that glorious moment! The Grey Wardens battle beside the king to stem the tide of evil.”  
Loghain turns away and starts walking, but the way he speaks his next words sends shivers down Raven’s spine. “Yes, Calian. A glorious moment for us all.”  
***  
“You heard the plan. You and Alistair will go to the Tower of Ishal and ensure the Beacon is lit,” Duncan says as they approach Alistair and Marilyn. The latter of which is lounging on the ground with her arm around Daisy, looking tense.  
“What?” Alistair’s head snaps up from where he was talking to Marilyn. “I won’t be in the battle?”   
“This is by the King’s personal request, Alistair. If the Beacon is not lit, Teryn Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.” Duncan sounds tired as he stands in front of the three of them. Marilyn rises to her feet, looking at them both.  
“So he needs two Gray Wardens there holding up the torch. Just in case, right?” Alistair asks dryly.  
“I agree with Alistair,” Raven sighs. “We should be in the battle.” Alistair gives a firm nod.  
“That is not your choice. If King Calian wishes Grey Wardens to ensure the beacon is lit, the Grey Wardens will be there.” Duncan fixes them both with a firm glare, which quite makes Raven feel like he’s being scolded by his father. “We must do whatever it takes to destroy the darkspawn...exciting or not.”   
“I get it, I get it.” Alistair sighs. “Just so you know, if the king ever asks me to put on a dress and dance the Remigold, I’m drawing the line. Darkspawn or not.”   
Raven snorts and Mary giggles, giving a dry, “I think I’d like to see that.”   
Alistair looks at her and gives a goofy half-grin. “For you, maybe.”  
“I don’t know, that could be a great distraction. I see you in a bright gold dress with flowers and sparkles.” Raven says sarcastically. “Could leave the Darkspawn so confused and scared that they go running back into the wilds.”  
Alistair laughs. “Yes, or my shimmying down the Darkspawn line makes them laugh so much that it’s easy to kill them.” Raven laughs as well, Marilyn snorting. Duncan lets out a long-suffering sigh.  
Duncan turns to him and Alistair and gives them directions on where to go and what to do, and Raven asks, “What do we do if the Archdemon appears?”  
“We soil our pants, that’s what,” Alistair replies simply. Raven snorts.  
“If it does, I want no heroics from either of you. Leave it to us,” Duncan says firmly. “Other   
then that, do what you must. I trust you both.” Raven feels more elated than he should at that.   
“Just not enough to actually fight with the rest of you,” Alistair grumbles.  
Duncan chuckles softly and says, “There will be plenty of battles, Alistair. Be patient.”   
“I know what we have to do.” Raven nods, running a hand through his hair and braiding it again with nimble fingers.  
“Then we must join the others.” Duncan smiles at them, nodding to Marilyn. “From here, you two are on your own. Remember, you are both Gray Wardens. I expect you to be worthy of that title.”  
“Duncan…” Alistair frowns and shifts, then looks at Marilyn, who gives him a gentle smile. “May the Maker watch over you both.”  
“May He watch over us all,” Duncan murmurs, turning and walking away.  
Marilyn turns to them and grabs each of their hands in her own. “Good luck.” She  
whispers, before letting go and trotting after Duncan with Daisy. Raven smiles softly.  
“You too,” He and Alistair echo at the same time.  
***  
The path to the tower is filled with Darkspawn, Raven and Alistair sticking close together during the battles that follow. By the time they reach the broken Tower, both of them are covered in blood. Several men are fleeing from the building, one of which shouting that the Tower had been taken. Alistair demands explanation and receives the answer that the Tower was swarming with Darkspawn. Alistair and Raven look at each other, frowning.  
Pushing open the heavy door, Raven lets Alistair in and then follows him, holding tight to his bloody sword. The entire tower is swarming with Darkspawn, and by the time their climbing the stairs to the second floor, Raven feels weak and dizzy. He’s never fought that much in his life, and Darkspawn are much tougher than the guards in the palace in Denerim. Alistair looks at him and asks, “Need a moment?”   
Raven pulls out a canteen from his bag and drinks a bit of water, shaking his head. “We don’t have the time. Let’s keep moving.”   
By the third level, Alistair seems as exhausted as him. “Maker’s Breath. What are all theses darkspawn doing ahead of the rest of the horde? There wasn’t supposed to be any resistance here!” Raven takes the opportunity to lean on the wall for support.   
“Weren’t you complaining that we wouldn’t get to fight?” Raven asks dryly while downing the rest of his water.   
Alistair gives an exhausted laugh. “Hey, your right! I guess there is a silver lining here, if you think about it. At any rate, we need to hurry! We need to get to the top of the tower and light the signal fire on time. Without it, Loghain’s men won’t know when to charge.”  
Raven gives a short nod and pushes himself off the wall, heading deeper into the tower. The more of the tower they explore, the creepier and more darkspawn-infested it gets. The two have finally reached the stairs to the top level and they start running up the stairs, exchanging glances at the sounds of growling and snarling.  
The thing in front of them is at least eight feet tall, with horns that account for another two feet. Its chest is bare but the rest of its body is covered in strange, jagged armor. Blood and some kind of liquid fall out of its mouth as it turns to them, pieces of flesh sticking to its long, jagged teeth. It roars, making the whole room shake.  
“What the fuck is that?!” Raven shouts, staring at the terrifying creature in front of the two Wardens.  
“Ogre!” Alistair shouts back as it starts marching forward. The two run to the side when it swings at them, and Raven growls.   
“How the hell do we kill that fucker?!” He cries as they dodge another attack. The Ogre’s swishing is far too close to his skin for comfort, and he can feel the strange air coming from the swing. The ogre snarls and attacks again, and Raven squeaks, leaping to one side. His heart is pounding. He’s never even imagined something like this, much less how to fight it.  
“I don’t know!” Alistair squeaks as he leaps to the other side, shield raised high. Raven adjusts his grip on the sword and runs forward while the Ogre focuses on Alistair, swinging and wincing as the sword clatters against armor, making a loud noise.  
Before Raven even processes what just happened, a large, clawed hand reaches down and grabs him, sending him flying at an almost terrifying speed. Raven’s stomach drops and his sword flies from his hand as he slams against the opposite wall. He falls to the ground with a pained grunt, chest heaving as pain makes his mind go white for a moment. He gathers himself as quickly as he can, looking up and wincing as the world dips and sways. He sees Alistair fighting and looks around, grabbing a sword that lays nearby and scrambling to his feet. He runs towards the Ogre and leaps up, grabbing onto the first thing he finds: a piece of Jagged armor on it’s back.  
The Ogre roars and thrashes, but Raven stabs his sword into a piece of exposed flesh. He struggles at first, the skin though and hard to break through, but he succeeds, and uses the sword to hold on. He hears Alistair attacking below him, the Ogre letting out bellows of pain. Raven hoists himself up, replacing his hand with his foot on the piece of armor and stabbing another piece of flesh. His ears are ringing to the point where most everything else is drowned out, but he keeps climbing up the Ogre’s back, feeling sick as it thrashes and snarls and tries to reach him. Finally, he reaches the beast’s neck, and with more finesse than he realized he possesses, he stabs the Ogre’s neck and spins onto its front, grunting as it falls. Both him and Alistair stab its chest until it stops moving, and Raven rolls off and onto the ground, his breath hard and choppy.   
“I’ll light the Beacon,” Alistair grunts, stumbling over to the other side of the room. Raven, however, focuses on getting up, pushing himself off the ground and standing wobbily. The room spins and he narrows his eyes trying to get it to stop, body thrumming with pain. He touches his chest and winces, quickly coming to the conclusion that something, maybe several somethings, are broken there. His hands are bleeding, he realizes distantly, and he feels more bruised then a practice dummy.  
The room is filled with heat as a fire roars, and Raven moves away from that dizzily, breathing hard. Alistair comes to his side, holding his stomach as blood drips to the ground. “You okay?” He asks.  
Raven laughs dryly, sounding hysterical even to his own ears. “What the fuck even happened?” He asks weakly.  
Alistair laughs, opening his mouth to respond when the door was thrown off its hinges and darkspawn poured into the room. Raven curses and grabs a sword, Alistair immedaitly attacking the nearest. An arrow pierces Raven’s side and he cries out, the world dipping and swaying before everything around him goes entirely pitch black.  
***  
_The heat of the battle is intense, Darkspawn practically pouring out of the wilds to fill the ruins of Ostagar. Marilyn takes down another Darkspawn, looking around quickly and realizing with a sinking feeling how little men there were compared to the darkspawn. The smell of death and blood floods her senses, making her feel sick, but she throws another fireball at a charging darkspawn and tries to keep calm. The blast of fire keeps the darkspawn off her for a few moments, allowing her to gather herself again. Her body is soaked with blood--Both darkspawn and human-- and she imagines the only thing keeping her moving is adrenaline. Breathing is hard, and blood slips down her chest from a cut too close to her neck for comfort. She looks up to the tower of Ishal, smiling with something akin to hope when she sees the fire burning at the top of the tower._  
 _She launches back into battle, certain that at any moment Teryn’ Loghain’s men would be pouring into the battlefield, causing the odds to be even once more. She blasts a group of darkspawn to a pile of rubble, freezing them there, then she hears a cry of pain. She turns her head, and feels a sick jolt when she sees King Calian. He’s held in the hand of one of the ogre’s, and then blood splatters as the ogre shoves all five of its claws into Calian’s body. Marilyn’s eyes widen as Calian is thrown to the side carelessly, and then she’s buried under darkspawn once again._  
 _It only takes a few moments of fighting for her to be able to see Duncan leaping onto the Ogre’s chest, stabbing and twisting his swords into its flesh. She sends another Darkspawn flying, stabbing another behind her. The Ogre’s cries of pain fill the entire battlefield and she allows herself a vicious grin. Then she looks over when it falls and Duncan is doubling over._  
 _“Duncan!” She screams, starting to make her way over. He looks at her, stumbling off the Ogre and to Calians side. She looks up at the tower of Ishal and her stomach lurches._  
 _ **‘Loghain isn’t coming.’** She realizes._  
 _The last of the army starts falling around her, and before she can get to Duncan, a darkspawn’s axe slices through his neck._  
 _She screams, then looks around. ‘ **Fuck. Fuck!’** A panicked sound escapes her and then fire engulfs her and the surrounding area. Taking the opportunity, she starts running out of the ruins and to the wilds. She has to warn people. She has to do something. She can’t take down the entire darkspawn horde by herself._  
 _Maybe no one can stop this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just another note. Scenes like with Marilyn at the end will be in italics. Unless its POV zevran.
> 
> also how many of you had a heart attack thinking Marilyn was gonna die in the battle? Let me know in the comments please! <3 Love any who've bookmarked/subscribed. Don't be shy to say something! Please do, comments make my day!!!


	5. The Aftermath of Ostagar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven is scared an uncertain after Ostagar, and thinks there's no way in hell they can take down the Darkspawn on their own. Flemeth and Alistair give him some hope, and Marilyn fights her way through the wilds.  
> Also, puppies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woop woop! UPDATES! I am excite over this update because for once, I actually like my work! XD I tried to pour a lot of emotion into Raven's character with this one so uh, I hope you enjoy! In other news: Why does no one in Dragon age ever hug!? Hugging is important people! Hug! If I want to hug my friends i'm going to f u c k i n g h u g m y f r i e n d s.  
> Raven however, is not much of a fan of unexpected affections. Maybe he'll get over that? Who knows. ;)

_“I told you that running around at night was going to get you sick, didn’t I?” Mama scolds, wiping my face with a cool cloth as I bury myself under the covers and sniff._

_“I’m fine, Mama,” I protest, sniffling again._

_“Raven… What happened to us never lying to each other?” Mama looks sad and I feel my stomach twist with guilt._

_Cafias said that she’d get hurt if I told her, though._

_“I’m not lying, Mama,” I murmur._

_Mama sighs and runs a hand through my hair, then touches my cheek. “Raven, sweetie. Why are you crying?”_

_“I’m not-” I gasp, sitting up as a fire ignites behind her. Then it starts engulfing her, burning her. Her expression changes to one of pain and she asks,_

_“Why did you kill me?”_

_She burns up in the fire and I’m left floating in darkness, crying. Then I fall down and look up, and Cafias is looking down at me--_

Raven shoots up and immediately regrets that decision, groaning and holding his stomach. He breathes hard, the remnants of his dream slowly fading as he returns to reality. He feels like his body is on fire with pain and he groans. A quick look down and he realizes he’s almost completely bare except for his smallclothes. He also quickly realizes he’s covered in bruises. “What the-”

“Ah, your eyes finally open.” He nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns his head to see a woman looking at a bookshelf against a wall. Raven shifts and tries to cover himself, slowly registering that he knows the woman. “Mother shall be pleased.”

“Morrigan,” he mumbles, mouth feeling dry. She comes to stand in front of him and the urge to cover himself grows. He feels prickle after prickle of discomfort run up his body as she peers at him. “Where am I?”

“Back in the wilds, of course. I have just finished bandaging your wounds.” The woman smiles slightly, and he looks down again to see any scratches and cuts from his battles are neatly patched. There's some kind of ointment on his bruises as well.

“Oh… Um...Thank you,” he murmurs, still crossing his arms over his chest. “What happened at Ostagar? Why am I here?”

Morrigan blushes slightly. “You are welcome.” Then she tsks. “So many questions. Clearly, your memory does not fare well. Do you remember nothing of Mother’s rescue?”

“The last thing I remember is Darkspawn swarming the tower.” Raven’s eyes close and then pop back open again. He nearly shoots to his feet as he demands, “Is Alistair here?! Is he okay?”

“The suspicious dim-witted one from before, yes. Mother managed to save you both from the tower, though twas a close call. He’s outside,” Morrigan sighs, and Raven feels a rush of relief. “As for what happened at Ostagar… The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won the battle. Those he abandoned were massacred. Your friend…. He is not taking it well.”

The relief he feels at Alistair being alive is quickly replaced by swirling grief, anger, fear, and horror. Raven feels dizzy and sits down fully again, swallowing down the bile rising in his chest. “Who would?” He feels tears sting his eyes and he fights down a sob, knowing without being able to really admit it that Duncan and Marilyn were dead. “Are there any survivors besides us? Any?”

“Only stragglers that are long gone. You would not want to see what is happening in that valley now,” Morrigan says softly.

Raven’s stomach lurches again and he has to take a moment, covering his mouth and breathing deeply, trying to calm down. Morrigan waits, and he finally manages to get it together. “Thanks for telling me,” he murmurs sincerely, though his voice is rather weak.

She shifts, seeming uncomfortable. “You...Are welcome. Mother asked to see you when you awoke,” she adds, quickly changing the subject.

He nods. “Is my armor near?” Morrigan nods and gestures to a chest on the end of the bed, walking away to another part of the house.

He opens the chest, trying to calm the warring feelings of anger, anxiety, and grief. He’s surprised to find not only his armor and underclothes in the chest, but also his bag, damaged and bloodstained as it may be. He opens it, checking the contents. Cyri, the elfroot charm, his clothes, his coin pouch and his dagger sits inside. He spends more than a few minutes getting on his underclothes and the difficult armor. It’s not like he’s ever worn the stuff before yesterday, and having every movement accented with pain doesn’t exactly make it any easier on him. He straps on the dagger, wishing he still had a sword but not surprised it was lost.

His heart aches and feels heavy as he gets dressed, thoughts whirling. Emotions war in his chest, fury and sorrow tugging simultaneously at his heart. He isn’t sure if he’s grateful to be alive, or pissed he wasn’t in the battle to die with the rest.  

This can’t be happening.

It had _seemed_ like a good plan.

Raven grits his teeth. Duncan didn’t deserve to _die._ Marilyn didn’t deserve to _fucking die._ Not like that. If Loghain had charged with his men, they all would’ve stood a chance. The Blight might’ve been stopped. There would be more than two Wardens in Ferelden; Duncan and Marilyn might’ve made it out alive; Ferelden would still have a fucking king--they could’ve stopped this before it had even begun!

Fury wins and he growls under his breath, running a hand through his thick hair and tugging on a handful of it.

_‘I’m going to find Loghain and I’m going to fucking kill him.’_

 

***

  


He finally walks out with damaged armor on and hair still a mess, spotting Alistair standing with Morrigan's mother, staring into the pond. “See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man.” Morrigan’s mother says. Raven avoids looking her in the eyes, instantly feeling uncomfortable around the older woman.

Alistair turns to him and his face reflects his relief. “You’re… You’re alive!” Alistair doesn’t hesitate and folds him into a quick hug. It takes every ounce of will Raven has to not tense up and pull away, the unexpected physical affection startling him. Instead, he pats Alistair’s back, pulling back when Alistair does. “I thought for sure you were dead,” he says, looking just as shell-shocked as Raven himself.

“I’m fine,” Raven murmurs. “You?” Alistair nods.

“This doesn’t feel real.” Alistair runs a hand through his hair and then down his face, frowning. “If it weren’t for Morrigan’s mother, we’d be dead on top of that tower.” He looks sad, lost, and Raven’s heart goes out to him.

“Do not talk of me as if I were not present, lad,” the woman says.

“I didn’t mean..” Alistair turns back to her. “I mean, what do we call you? You never told us your name.”

“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chaisand folks call me Flemeth. I suppose that will do,” Flemeth says with a sigh.

Raven is nonplussed, but Alistair seems distressed. “ _The_ Flemeth, from the legends?” The blonde asks. “Daveth was right--you're the witch of the wilds, aren’t you?” Alistair accuses.

“And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?” Flemeth snaps, and Raven cuts in.

“It doesn’t matter what or who she is.” Raven looks at Alistair, head still spinning. “What in Andraste’s name are we going to do?” Raven demands.

“I don’t know.” Alistair slumps.

“It has always been the Grey Warden’s duty to unite the lands against the darkspawn, or did that change when I wasn’t looking?” Flemeth asks.

“It changed when they all _died!”_ Raven snarls, whirling on her. “Have you not seen the Darkspawn horde? What the fuck do we do against that?!” He’s breathing hard, and the bitterly familiar feeling of panic winds itself like a vice around his chest. “I don’t know anything about being a Grey Warden. I don’t know anything about politics or armies or _anything_ like that _._ I’m fucking useless in this entire Makerdamned scenario! What the fuck do you expect me to **_do_**?! I haven’t even been in a real battle until a week ago. I’m some kid from the Alienage in Denerim, who’s barely ventured outside of the city walls. I know _nothing_!”

Alistair stares, but Flemeth seems unphased. “So you will just give up?”

“No!” Raven snarls. “I’m not going to _give up_!”

“It certainly seems like it. If you think small numbers make you helpless, then you are already defeated.” Raven runs both hands through his hair and tugs madly, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the pain anchor him back to reality.

“I didn’t say we were _helpless,_ ” Raven growls. “I’m saying how the hell are two barely-experienced Grey Wardens going to go about defeating an entire Darkspawn horde, and _apparently,_ Loghain and _his_ men, who I seriously fucking doubt will be happy to know we’re alive.” Raven opens his eyes eyes again, trying to regain some sense of calm.

“Why would Loghain do this?” Alistair sounds distressed, running his own hand through his hair. “It doesn’t make sense. What’s the point? What does he hope to _gain?_ ”

“Now that is a good question.” Flemeth sighs. “Mens hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature. Perhaps he believes the Darkspawn is an army he can outmaneuver. Perhaps he does not see the evil behind it that is the true threat.”

“The archdemon.” Alistair shudders.

“Indeed.” Flemeth nods, and Raven chews on his lip.

“Right. The giant dragon-like dead God behind it all,” Raven sighs, remembering his mother’s lessons on Grey Wardens and Blights.

Alistair suddenly lights up. “Arl Eamon!”

“What?” Raven's eyebrows furrow, confusion lacing the word. 

“Of course! Arl Eamon wasn’t at the battle, he still has all his men!” Alistair exclaims. “He was Calian’s uncle, if he knew what happened at Ostagar he would call for Loghain’s execution!”

Despite the small slivers of worry at trusting another noble, Raven still feels some quivers of hope as he straightens. “Arl Eamon…” Raven has to search his mind for where he’s heard the name, then nods. “The Arl of Redcliffe, right? Do you think he would help us?”

Alistair nods eagerly. “I know him. Eamon is a good man, respected by the landsmeet and loved by the people. We can go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!”

Another thought occurs to Raven and he deflates slightly. “Even if we can get this Eamon on our side, do you really think that’ll be enough?” Alistair deflates as well, and Flemeth speaks up.

“Surely there are other allies you could call on?” Flemeth suggests, and Alistair lights up again.

“ _Of course!_ The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand help from dwarves, elves, mages, and other places! They’re obligated to help us during a blight!” Alistair looks excited, hopeful, and it's catching on. Raven lets a grin spreads across his face as Flemeth says,

“I may be old, but Dwarves, elves, mages, this ‘Arl Eamon’, and who knows what else, this certainly sounds like an army to me.” Flemeth smirks.

“So we can do this?” Alistair looks at him, almost as if he wants him to lead the way. “Go to Redcliffe and these other places and...build an army?”

Raven steels himself and nods. “Yeah. Yeah. I think we can.” He smiles. “As long as we don’t get brutally murdered along the way, we should be alright. I mean. Why not? Isn’t that what Grey Wardens do?” He laughs nervously, fingers twitching as he folds his arms.

“So you are set then?” Flemeth asks. “Ready to be Grey Wardens?”

Raven shifts, running a hand down his arm. “Ha. No. But I’m ready to try. Er… Thank you, for everything, Flemeth,” he says, eying Flemeth warily. He still feels uncomfortable after that fuckery back when he first met her. Maker, that feels like it was so long ago and it was _yesterday._

“Don’t be so quick. I have one more thing I can offer you,” Flemeth says calmly, and almost as if on cue, Morrigan walks out of the cabin.

“The stew is bubbling, mother dear. Shall we have two guests for the eve, or none?” The ravenette asks with a sigh.

“The Grey Warden’s are leaving shortly, girl. And you will be joining them,” Flemeth says with the kind of finality that suggests there is no arguing with her.

“Such a shame--What?!” Morrigan’s voice raises in pitch and her eyes narrow.

“You heard me, girl. Last time I looked, you had ears.” Flemeth laughs.

Raven looks at Flemeth, and then at Morrigan. He had no doubt Morrigan would be helpful, but he also has no interest in dragging an unreluctant mage along across the country. “Thank you,” he says to Flemeth, then to Morrigan he says, “But if you don’t wish to join us, you don’t need to.”

“Her magic will be useful,” Flemeth says. “Even better, she knows the wilds and how to get past the horde.”

“Have I no say in this?” Morrigan snaps at her mother, bristling.

“You have been itching to get out of these wilds for years. Consider this your chance. As for you, Warden's, consider this repayment for your lives.” Flemeth looks directly at him.

Raven remains silent, working his jaw. It was clear Flemeth would not be moved on this, and he wasn’t fighting Morrigan’s battles for her. “Not to...Look a gift horse in the mouth, but won’t this add to our problems?” Raven looks up at Alistair’s voice. “Out of the wilds, she’s an apostate.”

“If you do not want help from us illegal mages, young man, perhaps I should have left you in that tower.” Flemeth smirks and Alistair frowns.

“Point taken,” he mutters.

“Mother, this is not how I wanted this. I am not even ready--”

“You must be ready. Alone, these two must unite Ferelden against the darkspawn. They need you, Morrigan. Without you, they will surely fail, and all will perish under the blight, even I.” Flemeth stares her down, and Morrigan visibly relents.

_‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Flemeth.’_

“I...Understand,” Morrigan grumbles.

“And you, Grey Wardens? Do you understand? I give you that which I value above all in this world. I do this because you _must_ succeed,” Flemeth growls vehemently, her eyes narrowing.

Raven nods. “I understand,” he says softly, itching to get back on the road.

“Allow me to get my things, if you please.” Morrigan turns and walks back to the hut, clearly still reluctant and upset. Raven sighs and looks back at the forest, frowning. A few minutes later, Morrigan steps out with a sigh. “I am at your disposal, Grey Wardens. I suggest a village north of the wilds as our first destination. ‘Tis not far, and you will find much you need there. Or, if you prefer, I shall simply be your silent guide. The choice is yours.”

Raven shrugs. “I’d prefer you to speak your mind,” he responds honestly, and resists the urge to roll his eyes when Flemeth cackles to his right.

“You will regret saying that,” Flemeth snickers.

Morrigan doesn’t refrain and rolls her eyes, turning to face her mother. “Farewell, mother. Do not forget the stew on the fire. I would hate to return to a burned down hut.”

“Bah! ‘Tis far more likely you return to find this entire area, along with my hut, swallowed up by the blight!” Flemeth snaps.  

“I... all I meant was…”

“I know. Do try to have fun, dear.” Flemeth gives a cat-like grin.

 

***

 

The sound of bushes moving and branches breaking draws Raven’s attention away from Alistair and Morrigan’s bickering. “Hey!” He hisses almost silently, elbowing Alistair, grabbing the senior Grey Warden’s attention. When he looks at Raven, Raven nods to the area the sounds are coming from and mouths, ‘ _Darkspawn?_ ’

Alistair tilts his head, then shakes it, following Raven’s gaze. Raven drags his dagger out of its sheathe, and Alistair follows suit with his sword (It’s not the same as it was at the battle-Raven faintly wonders where the hell the other got it from). Morrigan pulls out her staff and Raven hears a crackle he imagines to be magic.

“Fuck!” The familiar voice makes both Alistair and Raven suck in a breath, and then a fireball shoots through the leaves and makes all three of them scramble to the side.

When Raven looks up again, his eyes widen. Standing there, arm half raised and hand still sizzling, is none other than Marilyn. Her eyes are wide and she’s covered in blood as she holds her middle, which is bleeding profusely. Her hair is tumbling over her shoulders, appearing singed and smoky. She appears to have no weapons on her, and her armor is all but ruined.

Alistair gathers himself before Raven and leaps up. “Marilyn! You’re alive!” He cries as he rushes to her side, looking at her worriedly. He goes to hug her, then stops and just touches her shoulder, already rummaging in his pack, presumably for bandages. Raven gets to his feet as well, brushing himself off. Relief sets in at seeing his friend alive and well and he smiles at her.

“You look like hell,” he says, walking over to her and supporting her other side as she laughs then falls. He catches her, along with Alistair, and the two share a worried glance. “How the hell did you get out of the battle alive?”

“A lot of fire and a lot of blood, kid,” Marilyn says with a hoarse laugh. Raven manages a chuckle in turn, but his concern for Mary quickly sobers him back up.

“How bad is it?” He asks, watching as Alistair helps Marilyn to the ground.

“Uh… I think pretty bad, but I’ve been running on adrenaline and spite and haven’t really taken a moment to pay attention,” Marilyn admits. Raven kneels next to her other side, watching Alistair move her bloody arm away from her stomach.

“Morrigan, do you know any healing spells?” He asks, voice tight as he looks up at their other companion.

“Only very rudimentary ones,” Morrigan admits, but kneels in front of Marilyn nonetheless. Raven feels all but useless, knowing next to nothing on how to deal with injuries. He holds Marilyn’s hand and she squeezes as Morrigan hovers glowing gold hands over her middle.

“It’s a miracle you survived this long,” Alistair mutters worriedly, looking at Marilyn. “Is Duncan really...?”

“Saw it with my own eyes.” She flinches a bit when Morrigan touches her, then looks at Alistair with sympathetic eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The pain in Alistair’s eyes is obvious.  “I’m just glad you made it out,” he mutters.

Raven ducks his head, watching Morrigan remove her hands and admit that she’d done all she can, and watching Alistair clean and wrap the stab wound in Marilyn’s stomach. He helps Marilyn stand and helps wrap the cuts on the rest of her body. “We’re going to Lothering.” He says softly. “We can get you some more armor, get something to treat your wounds.”

Marilyn nods, smiling at him and ruffling his hair, making his braid slightly more messy. “Thanks.” Alistair hovers worriedly as she makes her way to her feet, and she smiles and ruffles his hair again. Raven can’t help but admire her- She’s been through even more hell then he has the past few weeks, and she’s still smiling.

They manage to get moving again, Marilyn leaning on Alistair or Raven for support most of the way as the two explained their plan to their fellow Warden. “So, where are we going to head first?” Marilyn asks.

“Uh…” Alistair shifts. “I leave that to you two. I recommend Arl Eamon, but don’t leave the decision up to me. Bad things happen when I make decisions that affect other people.”

“I’m somehow unsurprised,” Morrigan mutters, nose wrinkling.

Raven chuckles under his breath and Marilyn grins. “Arl Eamon seems like the best first stop we could make,” he says, looking at Marilyn for confirmation.

“You know, at this point, the last thing I want to do is be in charge of anything, so, lead the way, Red,” Marilyn replies.

Raven’s nose wrinkles and he whispers, “Red?”

“You’ve got several choices here. Red, Spice, Kitten, or Fireball. Take your pick.” Marilyn grins at him, eyes soft.

Raven rolls his eyes. “I’ll go with Red,” he says dryly, grateful that when he looks around the trees are starting to space out and become further and farther between. The wilds is suffocating.

“Eh, I’ll probably use all of them.” Marilyn shrugs. Raven rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

“Great,” he mutters under his breath.

They don’t get far from the wilds when a loud barking causes all of them to fall silent and look up. The barking gets louder and louder, and then from around a corner a huge mabari warhound comes barreling down the road and straight into Raven, knocking him over and licking his chin.

“Oh-Maker’s breath--hi!” Raven gasps, wrinkling his nose as he shoves the huge dog’s head away from his face. “Yes, I see you're very excited--okay, _okay,_ calm down boy, Andraste’s _tits_ you’re huge!” By the time he’s managed to scramble out from under the dog, his face is covered in dog slobber and all three of his companions are laughing behind him. “Yeah, yeah, fuck you guys,” Raven mutters, wiping off his face with the back of his hand. Ugh.

The dog barks, leaping to its feet and putting its paw on Raven’s knee, its tongue lolling out of its mouth. It throws its head back and barks again. Raven tilts his head, studying the dog. “Aren’t you the Mabari I helped back at the camp?” The dog barks again, as if agreeing with Raven.

“He could’ve imprinted on you when you did that,” Marilyn speaks up, hand coming onto Raven’s shoulder. “Daisy did that when I got her as a puppy. She wouldn’t leave me alone.” Marilyn’s face twists in pain, and Raven squeezes her hand. He guesses Daisy wasn’t as lucky to survive the fight.

“I guess,” Raven murmurs, looking back at the dog. The dog runs back to where it came and then back to Raven, barking again. He runs off once more then returns with something in his mouth, and Raven blinks. The dog drops a sword by its hilt in front of Raven and Raven’s eyebrow shoots up. “Er….Thanks.”

The dog barks and Marilyn and Alistair laugh. Raven picks it up slowly, studying the heavy blade. “It’s better than a dagger,” he admits after a moment. “Thanks, pup.” The dog barks again and runs down the path again, looking back and wagging it’s tail.

“There’s darkspawn coming,” Alistair says, yanking out his sword again.

“Oh boy! Just what we need.” Marilyn’s hand lights up with fire and she looks at Morrigan. “Hey, Grumpy, let’s flank ‘em. Alistair and Raven can meet ‘em head on and we come up on their sides.”

“My name is Morrigan,” Morrigan snaps, then sighs and starts on the left side, shaking her head. Raven nods.

“Seems like a good idea,” he says, the dog growling and settling by his side, lowering into a pounce position. Raven twists the new weapon in his hands and straightens up, waiting for the darkspawn to cross the bend.

Raven’s eyes narrow as the darkspawn approach, filling the path. Marilyn and Morrigan are in position already, and for a second all is silent. Raven’s mouth goes dry and chills run down his back when the darkspawn in front of the pack drags its claw against its neck and gives Raven an all-too-unsettling smile.

Thankfully, the darkspawn attack right after and Raven doesn’t have the time to dwell on it. The battle is over quickly, the Mabari helping to make quick work of the monsters. Raven wipes the blood off his cheek when they finish and ruffles the dog’s ears.

“Good boy,” he whispers affectionately, smiling. The dog barks happily, tongue hanging out of his mouth.

“He’s definitely imprinted on you,” Alistair says, leaning over Raven’s shoulder to look at the dog.

“Oh, great,” Morrigan snips, to his left. “As if Alistair wasn’t bad enough, now we’re going to have this mangy mutt following us around.”

The dog whines, and Alistair jumps to his defense. “He’s not mangy!” Alistair voice gets higher pitched as he grins at the dog. “Who’s a good boy?” He ruffles the Mabari’s ears.

“He’s absolutely adorable. What are we going to name him?” Marilyn says, running her fingers through the tail-wagging Mabari’s fur.

“Cyri,” Raven says almost instantly, smiling as Cyri barks in approval and licks his hand. Raven’s eyes soften and he runs his fingers through the short hairs on the Mabari’s head, kissing the dog's head lovingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raven has a puppy, Marilyn continues to be a salty asshole, and Alistair is the most adorable bean we've ever encountered in our lifetime. Morrigan comes in with her own saltiness and this team is basically just a pile of people being assholes with one cutie. It's great.  
> Okay, this chapter is kinda crap but I think that of every chapter so...? Anyways, please tell me what you think! Constructive criticism and comments make my day!  
> I wanna make some shoutouts to anyone who's subscribed to this, the person who bookmarked this, and @MadamSnark, @LyraNess, and @0102and3 for leaving kudos, and a big shoutout to Madam for leaving me a super sweet comment the other day- It really made my day!  
> Please leave your comments down below, give me your reactions and tell me what you think. I hope you continue to enjoy following Raven on his adventures.


	6. Chapter Six: Kittens in Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they recover from the tragedy at Ostagar, the party moves to gather supplies- and friends- in Lothering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Hello, i am alive. I had a lot of trouble with School/Work + a bad writers block so yeah.... Im so sorry. I'm hoping to not do that again to y'all but seriously if your reading this, your an angel, thank u for reading my trash <3 
> 
> -This chapter is kinda crap because I was so Damn Desperate to finish it for y'all. 
> 
> -Please give me your thoughts, I will cry from being so happy and probably give you a really rambly response. It seriously means the world to me (I reread comments to give myself motivation)
> 
> -As a apology, I made you guys Art. I hope you like, it's at the bottom
> 
> -Hit me up on my tumblr, @Lostfanboy or check out my art blog, @smolhufflepuffkitten  
> I'm nice, I promise <3
> 
> -Anyway, that's pretty much all there is to say, Ily all so much

The town of Lothering is small and cramped, reminding Raven faintly of home and the Alienage. There are tents and caravans all over the outskirts, people milling about outside of them. The bridge leading down into the town itself is blocked off by a number of caravans, with several people milling about in front of them.

“Wake up, gentlemen!” The man that Raven assumes is their leader hops to his feet, followed by the others. “More travelers to attend to. Led by an elf, of all things.”

Raven feels his ears twitch in displeasure as he narrows his eyes. _‘Typical,’_ he thinks, cynicism dripping off the word.

“Err.. They don’t look much like them others, boss.” Raven’s eyes move to the one speaking, who shifts uncomfortably as he speaks. When Raven fixes his gaze on the man, he seems to become even more uncomfortable. Cyri growls, the fur on his back sticking up as he stands closer to Raven. “Uhhh...Maybe we should just let this one pass.”

“Nonsense!” The leader snaps. “Greetings, travelers!” The false cheer he displays has Raven more annoyed than if he had just downright threatened them.

“Highwaymen,” Alistair mutters behind him. “Preying on those fleeing the darkspawn, I suppose.” He sounds disgusted, angry.

“They are fools to get in our way,” Morrigan growls. “I say, teach them a lesson.”

“Idiots.” That seems to be all Marilyn wants to say on the matter, her arms folding. Raven

looks back at her, noticing the lines of pain in her face. She’s leaning on Alistair again, hand around her stomach.

“Now, is that any way to greet someone?” The man asks, all but pouting. Raven arches an eyebrow as he looks back at the idiot, “Tsk, tsk, tsk. A simple ten silvers and then you're free to move on.”

Raven starts a bit when Marilyn leans her elbow on his shoulder casually. She’s moved up beside him, and though her posture is casual she’s leaning quite a bit of weight on him. “You should listen to your friend.” She juts her chin at the one who looked more than a little terrified. “We’re no refuges.”

“Maybe we should just let these ones past.” The scared one shifts closer to the leader, eying Raven and Marilyn warily.

“Nonsense. This is a toll, not, say, a refugee tax,” the leader huffs, looking for all accounts and purposes very put-off.

“A toll for what?” Raven asks dryly.

“For the imperial highway!” The leader juts his thumb behind him to gesture at the highway, and Raven’s ears twitch again. This man must think he’s stupid.

“More like a toll to line the insides of your pockets,” Raven replies, calmly. He’s used to petty thieves and criminals--they’re always crawling all over the alienage. He’s even worked with a couple.

“Not much gets past you, I see,” the leader sighs, looking disappointed.

“It’s not really a toll. We’re just robbing you, see?” The man who spoke before says.

Raven snorts. “You’re going about it like a bunch of idiots. Unsurprising, since you clearly are. I suggest you let us pass.”

“And why should we?” The leader crosses his arms.

Marilyn looks at Raven and he can see the twitch of a smile at the edges of her lips, the amused glint in her eyes. “I suppose we have no choice.”

Raven catches on quickly and fights down a smile. “We’ll just have to kill them.”

“Yep.” She grins wickedly. “Think they’ll cook well?”

He can hear Alistair choke on air and Morrigan’s scoff. This makes not laughing harder, but he manages it. “Mm. I don’t know.” He wrinkles his nose. “I think they’ll be stringy.”

He looks back at the bandits and is pleased to see the leader completely white in the face and wide-eyed. Marilyn’s next words make him look even sicker, his face blanching further. “I’m sure if we use enough spices we’ll get _something_ good. It’d be a shame to waste all this... meat.”

“You know, I think we better go!” The Leader squeaks, already grabbing his bag. “It was lovely meeting you but I think we should get out of here before the darkspawn hits, yes, that sounds like a wonderful idea, let’s go! Pack up boys!” Not laughing is nearly impossible at this point, and he watches as the group of bandits scramble to get their things and get out of there.

“Hey.” Raven calls as the bandits start to scramble off. The leader turns his head, staring. “You can run off now, but if I hear about you preying on refugees again?” Raven grins, feeling satisfied when the man turns even more white. “You're going to wish I killed you here.”

“Understood!” The leader squeaks, running off with the rest. As soon as the bandits are out of earshot, Raven, Marilyn, and Alistair all burst out laughing. Even Morrigan is smiling. Cyri’s tail is wagging fast, and he’s panting with excitement.

“I can’t-I can’t believe you two did that!” Alistair squeaks, before laughing even harder. Marilyn chortles, eyes crinkled at the sides as she wipes tears from the corners.

“That was the best laugh i’ve had in _weeks._ ” She giggles, pressing her face into Raven’s shoulder.

“Same here.” He says, finding himself still laughing.

“Are we going to move on, or…?” Morrigan asks, but there’s a edge of a smile to her lips that Raven feels satisfied with.

***

"It's just a guess but I'm thinking everyone in Lothering is aware of the approaching darkspawn horde." Alistair comments quietly as they maneuver around a refugee camp.

The more they walk around Lothering, the more Raven is reminded of home. He scoffs under his breath as he watches a woman and man fight outside a broken down house, their faces red with anger.

“What is it?” Marilyn says, leaning on him right now to give Alistair a break.

“Nothing. Just...reminded of home.” He chuckles softly, looking up at her.

Marilyn looks over at the arguing couple and arches an eyebrow. “ _That_ reminds you of home?”

Raven snorts. “Pretty much. The Alienage is full of people like this. Desperate, angry, out of choices and still fighting over what to do.” Raven shrugs, watching Cyri chase after a butterfly. “Maker knows my family got in plenty of fights over money.”

“I have to admit, I’ve never been anywhere near an Alienage. My mother would’ve had a heart attack.” Marilyn squeezes Raven’s shoulder lightly. “I don’t know much.”

“It’s...It’s pretty bad.” Raven sighs, thinking of his home. “But, I mean, it isn’t _all_ bad. We’re a close knit community. Everyone knows each other. We’re stronger for our struggles.”

“Still, no one should have to live in a situation where they don’t have choices.” Raven looks at Marilyn in surprise, eyes widening a tad. She looks back at him and smiles. “What?”

“I don’t know. I’ve just never-- I’ve come to expect people of noble origin to just brush us off, that’s all,” Raven admits, smiling softly. “It’s nice to have a change in that pattern.”

Marilyn grins at him and ruffles his hair. He ducks his head to get away, having just redone his braid. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty awesome,” she says. He laughs, and then Marilyn is playing with the strands of his hair. “How the hell do you keep this nest neat?”

“Lots of practice. It runs in the family, this nest,” Raven laughs. Marilyn laughs as well, and some of the stress Raven has been feeling melts a bit, letting him breathe a bit easier. He reaches up and starts fixing the damage Marilyn caused to his hair, and she playfully pulls out a strand of his redone braid. He glares playfully and sticks out his tongue, which only makes her laugh. He bats her hands away-gently, still mindful of her injuries- and finally fixes his braid. He tosses it out of his way and sighs.

“What does it look like down?” She asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“Why is my hair so fascinating?” Raven groans, tightening the tie on his red locks.

“It’s wavy and curly and super messy,” Alistair says, walking up beside Marilyn with a playful grin. “It’s also really damn long.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Raven mutters, rolling his eyes. Despite his grumbling, he’s fighting down a smile.

“Ohh, tell me more.” Marilyn shifts off of Raven’s shoulder- allowing him to roll his shoulders back and relax them without the stress of supporting her…

...And leans onto Alistair’s shoulder instead, folding her hands under her chin and batting her eyelashes at him.

Raven smirks a bit as he watches Alistair's cheeks flush pink. He chooses not to comment, but instead files the information away for later. “He looks really funny angry with his hair sticking up every which way,” Alistair supplies, and Marilyn grins wickedly.

“You are horrible people,” Raven mutters, looking at the sky.

“If you three are _quite_ done,” Morrigan says as she turns around. Marilyn sticks out her tongue and Morrigan scowls at the childish action. Raven just chuckles, shaking his head and taking the lead again.

They head into the cramped town, avoiding the numerous templars and angry refugees, shouting into the arid air. Raven sighs, looking up at the blue sky. Then he focuses on the others again. “Why don’t we split up? I’ll go handle supplies. Marilyn, want to go check out the Tavern?”

Marilyn nods, and Alistair asks, “Want me to go with you?” Marilyn nods again, still leaning on her fellow Grey Warden.

Raven nods, opening his mouth and turning to look for Morrigan only to find that the mage is nowhere to be found. He closes his mouth and arches an eyebrow. “Well, I guess that’s that then. I’ll meet you two on the edge of town, and hopefully Morrigan will have reappeared by then.” Raven sighs, and Marilyn grins.

“Aye-aye, captain.” She gives him a playful little salute, and Raven rolls his eyes. Despite this, he’s smiling. Alistair grins at him and slips away with Marilyn, murmuring quietly to her. She laughs, and Alistair looks way too pleased, his cheeks flushed that bright pink.

Raven chuckles, watching their backs disappear into the crowd before whistling for Cyri to follow him as he walks around. He receives more than a few strange looks, but he doesn’t think anything of it. He looks around, humming under his breath, before something catches his attention.

It’s a little boy, no more than eight or nine. He has big blue eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and messy brown hair. Crossing his arms, the boy presses his back against the stone of a bridge and cries into the crowd, “Mother!” His voice is desperate, pained, and Raven’s heart breaks. “Mother, where are you?!”

Raven presses through the crowd to the little boy, kneeling in front of him when he reaches the kid. “Hey, what’s the matter, kiddo?”

The boy stares at him, eyes wide. He seems to consider his words, staring at Raven and seeming to decide that Raven is safe. “I-I...I can’t find my mama. Have you seen her?” The boy  lights up with hope, eyes widening.

“That depends--what does she look like?” Raven asks softly, wanting to help this boy and badly.  

“She’s really tall, and she has red hair. We live on a big farm, all of us.” The boy sniffles, clearly on the verge of hysteria. “Some mean men with swords came, and mama told me to run to the village as fast as I could, and so I did! She said she was right behind me, but I’ve been waiting and waiting, and I can’t see her!” The boy sobs, rubbing at his cheeks with clenched fists.  

 _‘This poor boy’s mother is dead.’_ Raven’s thoughts say bleakly, but instead of saying this he gently lowers his voice, “Shh, shh. Hey, hey kiddo, it’s okay. Breathe, okay bud? It’s gonna be okay, I promise. Here, kiddo. Can you come with me to the Chantry?” Raven asks softly. “The people there will be able to help find your mother, and help you too.” _‘And they’ll probably be able to break the news to him better than I can.’_

“R-Really?” The boy blinks, staring at Raven. “Y-You’re…Are you an elf..?” The boy tilts his head, scrubbing at his tears with his sleeves.

“Do the ears give it away?” Raven quirks up one side of his mouth, and the boy giggles.

“Father says I’m not supposed to talk to elves, and that they’re bad, but you're nicer than anybody else here.” The boy gives a toothy, adorable smile and Raven can’t help but give a smile in return.

“People are kinda mean to elves, but I’ll tell you a secret.” He smiles. “Elf or human, everyone has the capacity to be kind. Just make sure you’re kind, too.”

The boy blinks, then grins. “Okay!” He giggles again, less hysterical now. Cyri walks up to the boy, and licks his face, causing the boy to giggle more. Raven smiles once more and stands, holding out a hand for the little boy to take. The boy’s small hand curls into his own, and Raven gently leads him towards the chantry. A protective feeling rushes over him as he looks at the small child, and he frowns, wishing he could help the child more.  

It doesn’t take long to reach the Chantry and bring aside a chantry brother, explaining the situation to him and letting the priest take the little boy inside. Raven watches them go before leaving the chantry courtyard, rubbing his arm and sighing. He spots several people milling about a caravan, seemingly shopping, and starts heading that way, figuring he might as well get his actual job done. Once there, he discovers the merchant and a chantry woman fighting. He manages to calm them down and find a compromise for them (mostly for the sake of his sanity), and starts to quietly look through the caravan, looking for supplies.

He hasn’t even spent five seconds doing this when a voice behind him says, “So, we have come to solve every squabble in the village, personally? My, but the darkspawn will be impressed.”

Raven jumps, his heart rate spiking to a rate far faster than what could be considered healthy. He whirls, breath coming in fast gasps and one hand ready to attack if necessary. When he recognizes the person speaking as Morrigan, he manages to relax. Slightly. Unfortunately, panic continues to grip his chest and the revelation that he’s not being attacked does nothing for his nerves. “Don’t sneak up on me!” He snarls, teeth baring a bit.

Morrigan arches an eyebrow and doesn’t offer an apology,  joining him in the caravan. “Jumpy, are we?” She asks smoothly.

“Yes, well, I’ve been in more near-death situations than I’d like to count lately, so you’ll have to forgive me,” Raven replies with biting sarcasm, nose crinkling.

Morrigan snorts under her breath, looking around. “Tell me, I’m curious. Where are you from?”

“Denerim,” Raven mutters, turning away from her as he starts sorting through the merchandise. He finds some bandages and healing potions and grabs those. “Alienage.”

She lets out a soft ‘ah’ then asks, “Where did you learn to fight?”

“Ma taught me.” Raven turns back to her. “She wasn’t from the city.” He shrugs.

“Sounds interesting.” Morrigan arches an eyebrow again, clearly pushing for more.

Raven shrugs, not interested in giving it to her. He has no doubt about her power, but as for trusting her, he still isn’t quite sure. “Maybe so,” he replies calmly, turning away and returning to looking through the merchandise.

He can feel golden eyes staring through his back as he gathers supplies. He glares at the roll of bandages in his hand, resisting the urge to ask her what the hell she’s staring at. Just as he’s about to say something, she asks, “Do you truly believe you can accomplish the assembling of an army?”

Raven snorts under his breath, examining the armor on the stands. “No,” he mutters. Then he meets her eyes and says, “But if we don’t try, we’re dead. If we do try, we’ll probably still be dead. But at least we tried.”

She falls silent after that, and he spends the next half hour gathering supplies with her. Just as he’s about to step out of the caravan, a bit of gold catches his eye.

He arches an eyebrow and moves closer, noting that it’s a medium sized sketchbook. He touches the pale gold cover, opening it and admiring the bare pages within. Next to it is a small case and he opens it, gasping a little when the contents turn out to be 12 colored oil pastels and two pencils, complete with a small sharpener.

Growing up he always loved sketching his family and friends, though he could never afford a sketchbook - nor would he ever ask for one - and he would sketch on spare pieces of paper with rundown pencils. He ended up being pretty good over the years.

Just as he’s picking the sketchbook up again, looking for a price, the merchant walks in. The man eyes what Raven is holding and grunts, “Take it if you want.”

Raven’s eyes widen and he looks at the man again. “Pardon?” He was just going to _give_ these away?

“No one is going to want anything like that right now.” He lifts a eyebrow. “Besides. I’d rather they go to someone who’ll use ‘em, rather than just being destroyed when the darkspawn arrive.”

“Well, I.” Raven’s mouth goes dry and he quietly puts the sketchbook away. “Thank you.” He picks up the box, placing that in his bag as well after a bit of hesitance and a nod of encouragement from the merchant.

***

A little while later, Raven is in fresh, unruined armor and they have more for Marilyn and Alistair. Raven is also examining a new greatsword as they walk to the edge of town. He leans on a fence, half closing his eyes as Morrigan stands next to him.

He stares up at the sky, noting the time. They had a few hours until nightfall, and the sky was a dull blue, cloudy. He watches a couple birds fly, sighing softly and attempting to let some of the tension in his body. His eyes slip fully closed.

Then someone pokes him on the nose. “Hey, Spice.”

“Marilyn,” he greets, giving her a small smile. Her hair is messier, strands of silky black hair falling over dark brown skin. She smiles at him. He blinks at her, then notices she’s covered in blood once more. “...Aw jeez, what the hell happened?”

Alistair enters his line of vision. “Some of Loghain’s men were waiting for us in the tavern.” The man looks angry and drawn, his lips thin. “ _Apparently_ Loghain is spreading the idea that it was the Grey Wardens who betrayed the king and not him.”

Raven feels a now-familiar bubbling of anger in his chest and he narrows his eyes. “Of fucking course. The man needs a scapegoat, right?” He sneers. “Why not use us?”

“Now, now. I’m sure it’ll all be resolved soon,” a new voice states. Her voice is laden with an accent he doesn’t recognize in the slightest, and she slides into view from behind Alistair. Next to him, he can see Morrigan sneer. The woman has chin length ginger hair and bright blue eyes, clothed in chantry robes with a bow over her chest and a pack of arrows on her back, as well as a knife around her waist. Her eyes are what catch Raven’s attention, intense in their bright blue, different from his or Marilyn’s. Freckles stand out on her pale skin and her smile is warm and sweet, her eyes steadily meeting his own and seeming to measure his character from just one look.

The fuck kind of chantry sister is this?

She smiles at him and he arches an eyebrow. “...Uh-huh. Who are you?” Raven crosses his arms, leaning further onto the fence.

“Raven, this is Leliana.” Marilyn nods to the woman. “She helped us when Loghain’s fucks attacked us in the tavern. She wants to help.”

Raven nods, humming in thought and studying her. “Can you shoot that thing into a darkspawn or several hundred?” He nods to her bow, his hand going to Cyri’s head and stroking the dog’s short fur.

Leliana chuckles. “Yes, and you’ll find my skills are not limited to just that.” She smiles wide.

Raven shrugs, still eying her suspiciously. “...Well.” He looks at Marilyn. “She helped you?” Marilyn nods. “Okay. We’ll need all the help we can get, I suppose, so welcome aboard.”

He pushes himself off the fence and starts heading toward the outskirts of town, the others not taking long to fall in step beside him. Marilyn is soon leaning on his shoulders again and they just leave the outskirts of the town when Morrigan stops short.

She doesn’t say anything, just nods to a small cage hanging from several supports on the edge of town. Raven frowns at the cruelty of the inhuman treatment of the captive. Not only would no one except the smallest of children be able to sit down in the enclosed space, but it was completely exposed to the elements. The bars of the cage even seemed to be sharp at the edges.

The captive himself is what draws Raven’s attention. The man is _huge._ Taller and broader than any elf or human Raven’s ever met. He’s squished inside the large cage, though he stares stoically into the distance, barely reacting to what must be painful. His ears are curved and pointed like an elves, but he was no elf. Tight dreadlocks decorate his head, as well as two little… Horns? Raven couldn’t tell if they were decoration, a part of his head, or hair, but he didn’t understand their purpose. They were gray and sharp, and he kept shifting his head to keep them from pressing against the tops of the cage.

He’s speaking, but it’s no language Raven understands. The syllables and rhythm are hard and sharp, foreign to his ears and making no sense. He hasn’t heard languages other than the common tongue, and despite his wariness of the man, his curiosity peaks. To his right, Morrigan studies the man up and down. “A strong creature such as this, locked away.” She tsks. “A crime. If we’re going to take the nitwit and the cloister sister, I’d _suggest_ talking to this man before we leave.” She looks at Raven again at last, a certain glint in her eyes.

Raven arches an eyebrow at her. “You make no sense,” he says blunty. She arches an eyebrow and thins her lips in response, and he sighs and shakes his head, walking to the cage quietly. The other four follow, with Cyri pressed close to his calves. The man’s eyes lock onto his as soon as he approaches and he nearly staggers at the intensity found there. Two grey eyes lock onto his own, seeming to peer into his very soul.

When the man speaks, however, his voice is a near perfect monotone. “You aren’t one of my captors.” There’s no question in the words, just a statement of facts. Raven has never met anyone _anything_ like this man. “I will not amuse you anymore than I have the humans. Leave me in peace.”

“You’re a prisoner, yes?” Marilyn asks. She moves from behind him on Alistair’s side to lean on his, locking her hands under her chin. “Who imprisoned you?”

“I’m in a cage, am I not?” The words are clipped, annoyed, he thinks, but he really can’t read this man’s emotions. “I’ve been placed here by the chantry.”

“The revered mother said he slaughtered an entire family. Even the children.” Raven turns his head at Leliana’s words. Her blue eyes are locked on the man, lips thinned.

“It is as she says,” the man replies. Raven isn’t sure if the bluntness of the words is nonchalance, or maybe just acceptance. Either way, he feels sick. “I am Sten of the Beresaad - The vangaurd - of the qunari people.”

“Qunari?” Raven repeats, blinking. He’s never heard that word before, never even heard of a ‘Qunari people.’ Then he shakes his head and recovers his manners. “I am Raven Tabris. Pleased to meet you.”

“You mock me. Or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands. Though it matters little now, I expect I will die soon enough.” Raven doesn’t like the matter of fact tone, the utter lack of emotion in the statement. It feels wrong to care that little about your own fate.

“This is a proud and powerful creature.” Raven didn’t know it was possible, but Morrigan manages to make him feel even more put off. “Trapped as prey for the darkspawn. If you cannot see a release for him, I suggest releasing him for mercy’s sake alone.”

...Because _that_ sounds like something Morrigan would do.

“Mercy? I wouldn’t have expected that from you.” Alistair snorts, crossing his arms.

“I also suggest that Alistair takes his place in the cage,” Morrigan snaps, golden eyes narrowing to shards of ice.

“Yes, _that’s_ what I would’ve expected.” Alistair rolls his eyes.

“Let’s not have another one of your catfights, okay?” Mary massages her temple, still leaning on Raven’s side.

“I suggest you leave me to my fate.” The man--Sten-- snaps, arms folding.

Marilyn hums from his side, thoughtfully, then says, “Are you interested in seeking atonement?” Raven isn’t entirely sure he likes where this is going.

“Death will be my atonement.”

“...Yes, well, there are other ways to seek atonement other than dying, y’know.” Marilyn sighs.

Sten’s face remains impassive as he responds, “Perhaps. What does your wisdom say is equal to my crime?”

“You're just as likely to die fighting the Blight, yeah? At least then you’ve done some kinda good rather than dying in a cage.” Marilyn’s lips twitch.

“The blight? Are you a Grey Warden, then?” Sten asks, a tiny bit of curiosity worming its way into his voice.

“Yes.” Marilyn gives a slight smile.

“My people have heard of the Grey Warden’s strength and skill, though I suppose not every legend is true,” Sten muses.

Marilyn simply smiles. “Are you willing, or no?” She asks.

“Yes. It is as you said, I am just as likely to die.” Sten nods, and Marilyn turns to Raven.

“Any possible way you can break off that padlock for me?” She asks.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Raven mutters. She nods.

“How can we make our situation any worse, Flame?” Mary tugs his braid, and he sighs, tugging his sword out of it’s sheathe.

Raven braces the metal of his sword under the curve of the padlock, pressing down until the semi-brittle metal snaps under the strength of his relatively new sword. The door swings open, and Sten stares him down. “And so it is done. I will follow you into  battle, in doing so, I shall find my atonement.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think <3   
> I hope you enjoyed a picture of Raven and Zevran <3


	7. Chapter Seven: Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group settles down at camp before their journey to redcliffe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -HEY I'M STILL ALIVE   
> -I'm sooooo sorry this chapter didn't come out sooner. It gave me soooo much grief. I've been calling it the "Cursed chapter of dialogue." Lol. But, seriously, i'm really sorry. The good news is we're onto the more juicy stuff again. Redcliffe, here we come! Hopefully being more excited for the content will enable to pump out chapters a little faster (But don't hold your breath.)  
> -I've started school again, so that's fun my dudes. It's not giving me too much grief though, so I think we might be okay.   
> -This chapter was kinda fun to write in some aspects, as it allowed me to delve into Raven's character and give you more information on Marilyn as well (As many of you seem to like her!)  
> -Huge thanks to everyone who reads this story, especially the ones that leave sweet comments. Rereading those comments give me so much inspiration and hope and it never fails to make my freaking day. Honestly, even if it's just a keyboard smash, leave your comments! I utterly adore hearing from you guys, and I promise i'm nice!   
> -If you like, message me over on my tumblr @Lostfanboy or check out my art blog, @smolhufflepuffkitten! I'm always happy to make a friend and talk about Dragon Age or whatever else!   
> -Again, thank you so much for reading and through sticking through this. I have a plan for the next three chapters, and i'm hoping to get them out before October (again, don't hold your breath.) Love you guys!!!

_ He’s falling, down, down and can’t breathe, things grabbing at him, hard rock tumbling to him, he lands- _

_ It doesn’t hurt. _

_ He wants it to hurt. _

_ Not hurting means he’s not alive, not there, drifting away, lava beneath him, air is thick and choking and humid. Darkspawn, he sees them, the monsters, crawling, growling, guttural sounds vibrating under his skin, tingling under his fingertips have to stop them have to stop them have to have to have to- _

_ Dragon, archdemon, it lifts its head and roars and he can almost understand- _

Raven shoots up, eyes popping open and a short gasp bursting out of his chest. A cold sweat covers his body, unpleasant and sticky. He barely registers the hand on his shoulder until Alistair speaks.

“Bad dreams, huh?” Big brown eyes stare into his, concerned but warm. “It’s real, sort of. You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That’s what your dream was. Hearing them. The archdemon it...talks to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That’s why we know this is really a blight.

“...Great.” Raven massages his forehead, the dull ache there barely relieving from the pressure. His body is slowly returning to reality, the everyday pain of his body slowly returning to him. Aches and pains are normal, a constant for him. He doesn’t remember a day where he wasn’t in some kind of pain. It’s worse with the fact that he’s still banged up from Ostagar, bruises and cuts slowly healing. “How long was I out?”

“Just about an hour.” Alistair scratches his head. “You kinda passed out after we set up and Marilyn said we should let you rest.” 

Raven flushes with embarrassment, scratching his arm and muttering, “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. You were tired.” Alistair smiles and pats Raven’s shoulder, standing up. Looking around, Marylin and Leliana were nowhere to be found. Sten was sitting a good ways away from the main camp and Cyri was curled up only a feet away from Raven himself. Morrigan seems to have set up her own camp far from the others, which Raven isn’t sure how he feels about. Raven whistles softly and Cyri pops up, bounding over and licking Raven’s fingers. Raven smiles. “Where’s Mary and Leliana?”

“They went hunting.” Alistair stretches his hands above his head as Raven pushes himself to his feet. “I’m hoping that meant, you know, food and not killing random darkspawn in the woods.”

Raven chuckles, rebraiding his hair absently. “Do any of you know how to cook?”

“I was told that I have about as much cooking skill as a nug.” Alistair grins sheepishly. 

Raven laughs. “Well, I can if everyone’s okay with it.” He shrugs.

“You know how to cook?” Alistair’s eyebrows raise.

“Why is that such a surprise? Shianni was shit at it and father was too tired to cook most of the time so I just started doing it for them. I got pretty good at it with some guidance.” Raven walks over to the fire, sitting down near the warm flames and picking up the pot resting beside it. It was warm to the touch. 

“Who’s Shianni?” Alistair sits beside him, smiling softly. “Your sister?” He guesses.

“Not quite. She’s my cousin, though she might as well have been my sister. Her mother died during childbirth, and no one ever really knew her father, so we took her in. I grew up with her.” Raven shrugs, about to say something else when Marilyn’s voice directs his attention away from Alistair. 

“Hello.” Marilyn ruffles his hair, pushing his head down in the process as she shifts the weight of a overly large nug on her shoulders.

“Hey.” Raven smiles, sitting up when her hand leaves his head. “Hunt looks successful.” He looks across the fire where Leliana sets down a basket of what looked to be harvested berries and edible herbs. 

“Did I hear you saying you know how to cook? Because I’ve never touched a pot in my life.” Marilyn announces, setting down her nug.

“Yes, I do know how to cook,” Raven replies, amused. “That’s just sad. How can you have never cooked? Do you just...not need to eat?”

Marilyn laughs, sitting down to skin the nug. Raven sets the pot back over the fire as she speaks, “Ha-ha, very funny Spice. Nan cooked for the family. I would occasionally sneak into the kitchen, but more to cause trouble then to cook.” Marilyn grins. “Or to steal sweets.”

“When I was fifteen I thought it was a fun idea to steal sweets from the denerim marketplace for a guy I fancied.” Raven chuckles. “Father found out and chewed me out for a good two hours.” 

Alistair, Mary and Leliana all snicker, and Raven smiles. It was nice, being open about who he had interest in. There was no real reason to hide it anymore, everything had gone to shit anyway. It wasn’t like Raven was going to find anyone before the Darkspawn killed them all, not that Raven particularly minded. 

Leliana nibbles on some of the berries in her basket, Raven moving closer to it to gather spices and see what vegetables or fruits could work well with the meat in the stew. “In Orlais, we had these little treats called Sweet Ruins.” Ah, so that’s the source of Leliana’s strange accent. Raven has heard tales of Orlais, mostly about how they invaded Ferelden, but doesn’t know much about the country itself. “They were my favorite. I especially loved the ones with chocolate in them.” Her face lights up, a goofy show of teeth and sparkling blue eyes. Raven resolves he should ask her more about Orlais, she at least seems to love talking about it.

Marilyn grins. “Mother once got very excited about those when she returned home from a trip to Orlais.” Raven catches the falter in Marilyn’s voice when she mentions her mother, but he chooses not to comment. “She tried to make one. Let’s just say Father never let her near the kitchen again.” Raven laughs softly, along with the other two, and Marilyn looks pleased. 

Raven is delighted to find a bundle of wild carrots and turnips, and pulls a small knife he bought earlier to chop and drop the vegetables into the broth in the pot. Meanwhile, Alistair peers curiously over his shoulder as he speaks, “I used to make a game out of stealing as much food as I could from the Chantry kitchen and eating it before the priests caught me. I remember I ate a whole slice of chocolate cake and one of the Brothers caught me as I was sneaking out of the kitchen. He asked me if I had ate the cake and I promptly responded that I hadn’t. He asked why I was covered in chocolate and I said I wasn’t. He got very cross with me.” 

Everyone laughs, and Raven enjoys the image of a younger Alistair trying to get out of trouble despite being caught red handed. They fall into a semi-comfortable silence as Marilyn helps him chop up the nug and put it in the stew. Eventually, Marilyn speaks up again. “I used to sneak out of my bedroom and roam the castle at night. I would hide behind the battlements to practice magic with a friend.” She murmurs, a nostalgic, or maybe sad, touch to her voice. 

“I would climb over the walls of the city and roam the forest. Sometimes I would hunt or forage so we had something extra to eat.” Raven smiles, thinking of running through the woods, the wind in his hair. “Other times I would sit by this creek and just listen.” Marilyn smiles at him and he smiles back. Alistair and Leliana had moved a bit away by then, discussing the chantry from what Raven can hear. 

Marilyn smiles, watching the stew bubble. “Where did you learn how to fight?” She asks, leaning back on her hands and watching the fire. 

“My mother taught me mostly, and then the rest was practicing on my own whenever I could sneak out of town. I have no idea who taught my mother, though believe me, I asked. How did you learn?” Raven turns his head to look at her, finally letting his braid out for the day. His hair tumbles over his shoulders, tangled and messy.

“For the swordwork, Ser Gilmore taught me when I was old enough, though I was playing with the wooden swords with Fergus long before that.” She laughs and looks up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle gently. “For the magic? I didn’t get to pratice much, but occasionally, my friend-An apostate- would hide with me and show me little things. Fireballs, frost, things like that.” She shrugs one shoulder. “We would bring sweets and try random stuff together, usually blowing things up in our faces.”

Raven laughs. “I can imagine. Why don’t you ask Morrigan? Maybe she’d be willing to show you some stuff, especially if you point out it means you're able to do more in battle.” 

Marilyn chuckles, and the firelight catches on her teeth when she does. “I could try, but I’m a little scared of her. Just a bit.” She lifts two fingers, holding them close together, and they both laugh. 

“Meh. We’ve both seen worse at this point.” Raven laughs and shrugs, moving to stir the stew. 

Marilyn chuckles and nods, “Suppose so,” She agrees. A few moments later, Alistair manages to grab her attention and Raven falls into the quiet peace that comes with cooking. 

His thoughts drift back to the alienage. Marilyn very much so reminded him of Shianni, cocky grins and all. He wishes he could talk to Shianni now. To ask her advice, to see if she’s okay. Just to hear her voice.

A pang of homesickness hits him and he suddenly wishes he had more time in the Alienage, that he had spent more time with his Father and cousins. What if he never makes it back to Denerim? His father was old, tired, and sickly. It was very possible Raven could lose his father without ever getting the chance to say goodbye. The thought of it sends a pang of grief through his heart and he feels sick. A deep breath, and he pushes those thoughts away. He couldn’t focus on what if’s right then. He didn’t have the option. 

“You look lost.” Leliana says softly, sitting next to him with a gentle smile. He blinks at her, and chuckles. 

“I’m way out of my element.” He replies, and she gives a giggle. 

“I fear we never got the chance to really speak. It’s Raven, correct?” Leliana tilts her head, and Raven is reminded he knows next to nothing about her. 

“Yeah.” Raven says, eying the Stew. The meat needs few more minutes before he could call it done, he thinks. “So… Chantry sister? I don’t know a lot about the Chantry, but I have a feeling Chantry Sisters usually don’t join wars to fight darkspawn and corrupt teryns.” 

Leliana hums, a small smile on the edge of her face. “I had a vision.”

Raven’s eyebrows shoot up. O-kay. He’d always been skeptical of the Chantry and its teachings at best, downright dismissive at worst. His tone is dry as he replies, “A… Vision.” 

She chuckles, “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true!” She frowns. Oh, it didn’t just sound crazy. It sounded bat-shit insane, and Raven’s expression must have said as much because she says, “None of my fellow sisters believed me either.” 

“Let me just get this straight.” Raven starts spooning hot stew into bowls and handing them off to Marilyn and Alistair. He waves to Sten and Morrigan, but neither of them move. He shrugs and spoons a bowl for Leliana and hands it to her. “You had a vision, sent by the Maker, to join,” He waves with his spoon at the little camp before finally serving himself a bowl, “Whatever this is? I didn’t think the Maker sent visions.”

“You saw the people in Lothering. The Maker doesn’t want this. What you do is the Maker’s work and He called me to aid in your journey. This is what i’m meant to do. I know it.” Leliana stares into her bowl for a moment, seeming lost in thought. 

Raven chews on a piece of nug as he thinks. As far as he was concerned, the Maker didn’t  _ care. _ The Maker let darkness and destruction go on all the time. The Maker  _ let  _ Cafias hurt him. The Maker  _ let  _ his mother die. The Maker  _ let  _ Shianni get hurt. 

But Leliana looks hopeful, so he keeps his mouth shut. 

Finally after several moments of awkward silence, Raven says, “What  _ was  _ the vision?”

Leliana sighs and sets down her spoon, looking off into the distance as she says, “I had a dream. In it, there was an impenetrable darkness. It was… So dense, so real. And there was a noise. A terrible, ungodly noise.” Leliana shudders. “I stood on a peak, and watched as the darkness consumed everything… And when the storm swallowed the last of the sun’s light, I… I fell, and the darkness drew me in.” 

Raven sets down his empty bowl, staring at her. “What then?” He asks softly.

“When I woke, I went to the chantry’s garden’s, as I always do. But that day, the rosebush in the corner had flowered. Everyone  _ knew  _ that bush was dead. It was grey and twisted and gnarled- the ugliest thing you ever saw, but there it was. A single, beautiful rose.” She smiles softly. “It was as though the Maker stretched out His hand to say, “Even in the midst of all this darkness, there is hope and beauty. Have Faith.’” 

“To be perfectly honest, I still don’t know how you got the idea that you should drop everything to come along with us.” Raven looks up at the sky. “But hey. I’ve never been the most faithful of men, so… Who’s to say?” 

Raven can see Leliana smile out of the corner of his eye, and he can’t help but smile a bit too. “In the end though, I couldn’t just sit by and not help. I would do anything to stop this blight.” Leliana says softly.

“I suppose that’s why I’m here, too.” Raven murmurs, watching embers from the still-burning fire float up to the sky. 

***

After dinner, Raven lays down in his tent. He’s never actually slept in a tent before. His bag sits in the corner and he lays on his bedroll, too hot to get under it. He takes a deep breath, truly letting himself relax for the first time since he left the Alienage. Despite his best efforts, he remains tense. 

Morrigan had advised against it, but Cyri was lying next to him in the tent. The dog’s gentle snores put to ease some of his homesickness. He wasn’t used to sleeping alone, Shianni had always been in the top bunk of their beds. Sometimes, when the nightmares were bad and he couldn’t sleep for the life of him, he would lay and listen to her breathing. She would snort sometimes, and snore too. But he found it comforting, knowing she was alive, breathing, and right next to her.

When he was younger, he would climb into his parents bed and sleep between his mother and father, finding comfort and safety in the circle of their arms. Even when he got older, he would climb in with Shianni when he couldn’t stand to be alone. Now, he threads his fingers through the dog’s fur, listening to the soft huffs of breath. 

Everything had been happening so fast. He didn’t know what to make of it, or how to handle it. He certainly was no hero- Whatever Duncan saw in him certainly could not be enough. His mother used to say that anything was possible. He believed that once upon a time. 

But reality said otherwise. Believing wasn’t going to put food on the table or end a blight. Not for the first time, he wished his mother was there to reach out to, to give him advice and tell him what to do. He rubs at his cheeks, desperately willing the sick churning of his stomach to go away. 

Tomorrow they would start the journey to Redcliffe, to speak to Arl Eamon and begin building an army against the blight. He only hopes nothing goes wrong before they get there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -spoiler warning: something goes wrong  
> -Thank you again for reading!!! AHH!  
> -Leave your comments below if you like, let me know things I could improve on or things you liked about this chapter! Have a good day kidlets, and take care of yourselves.


	8. Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven faces an unexpected ambush, and gains an equally unexpected ally. The Grey Wardens and their allies make it to Redcliffe in one piece- but they aren't expecting the challenges that await them there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back?  
> It's chaboy  
> ...Four months after the last chapter i'M SORRY GUYS-  
> I've had some really bad writers block and insecurities surrounding Raven and tonight I finALLY wrote the last two scenes and cried in relief.  
> Good news? I'm finally posting and NOT going on hiatus (like i was considering oops) and in even better news, everyone's favorite lil adorable shit assassin has arrived and i'm so happy. Constantly afraid i'm writing him OOC but? Happy  
> So, before I finish rambling, I want to give a huge thank you to everyone supporting me and leaving wonderful comments (Check out Madamsnark and raymurata on tumblr/here on AO3! Their both super sweet and have amazing OCs whom I *love*!) It means the world to me!!!  
> Especially big shout out to my best friend, who deals with all my whining and has been with me every step of this story. He's such a sweetheart and he's so supportive and like you guys have him to thank for the fact that a) this whole story isn't horrifically grammatically incorrect and b) this story continues to be written bc he's the only reason I get anything done. I love him so much and like? The best friend?  
> Okay, i'm going to stop rambling now and actually let you guys read. Please let me know what you thought!

"Oh thank the maker!” A woman skids to a stop in front of them, her eyes panicked. She grabs onto Raven’s arm, hands shaking. “We need help! T-They attacked the wagon, please help us!”

“Ye-Yes, of course,” Raven, taken off guard, says, already reaching for his sword.

Her body visibly slumps in relief and she starts backing away. “Follow me, i’ll take you to them!” She runs off, and they are quick to follow.

They follow her down a beaten path, the woods becoming thicker the further they come off the main road. When she stops again, it’s in front of an elven man. She says something to him, and then steps to the side. Raven’s eyebrows furrow as he looks around, grip tightening on his sword handle. Something was very off here.

The elven man smirks, and he lifts his hand, and at his signal, armored men and women begin pouring out of hiding places. Raven hears the rumble before he sees the tree falling, and he dives out of the way just in time to avoid getting crushed under its weight. The tree is huge, cutting off the entirety of the path. The tree separates Raven, Cyri, Alistair, Marilyn, and Leliana from Morrigan and Sten, and leaves them effectively ambushed.

Raven pushes himself to his feet, grabbing his sword off the ground. The leader of their attackers pulls out his own daggers, and shouts, “The Grey Wardens die here!”

The fight is intense. Raven loses track of time, focusing only on survival. In the midst of the battle, he comes face to face with the leader of their attackers. He only has the time to register bright gold eyes before the leader’s dagger slices his stomach. He grunts in pain, quickly returning the attack with one of his own. His sword drives into the man's side, and when he falls, Raven moves onto the rest of their attackers.

When all's said and done, Raven leans against the wall of the cliffside, catching his breath and closing his eyes. He touches the wound on his stomach, between the plates of his armor. It’s deep, but not deep enough to be life-threatening.

“Raven, we’ve got a bit of a situation.” Marilyn says, standing above the fallen body of the leader.

Raven groans and walks over. “What is it?” He asks.

“He’s still breathing.” Alistair jerks his head in the direction of the man, sword in hand.  

“Oh, great. And why can’t we just… finish the job?” Raven asks.

“Because, oh wise one, I’d like to know who he is and who sent him. Let’s tie ‘im up and find out.” Marilyn grins and gets some rope out of her pack. “I’ll heal him enough so he won’t bleed out, or something.”

Raven sighs and walks over, helping Marilyn to tie the man’s wrists. She spends a few moments holding a glowing hand over the wound Raven had inflicted. After that, she flicks the elf’s head a few times until he groans and shifts.

Raven takes a chance to actually look at his would-be killer. The man has shoulder-length, blonde hair, and golden brown skin. He has tattoos on his cheek, two curving lines across high cheek bones. When the man’s eyes flutter open, Raven is struck once more by the pure gold of them. “Mmm... What? I... Oh.” The man’s voice is fucking velvet, heavily accented. “I rather thought I would wake up dead. Or… Not wake up at all, as the case may be.” He manages a smile. “But I see you haven’t killed me yet.”

“That can be easily rectified,” Raven replies dryly.

“Of that I have no doubt. You are most skilled.” The smile the man gives is altogether too charming for comfort. “If you haven’t killed me, however, you must have kept me alive for some purpose, yes?” Raven folds his arms, fighting down a wince as the pain reminds him of his injury. Cyri presses against his leg, a barely audible growl leaving the dogs throat.

“You seem awfully glib, for a prisoner,” Raven grumbles, eying the man.

The man chuckles. “It is my way, or so I am told. Let’s see then. I assume you kept me alive to ask me some questions, yes? If so, let me save you some time and get right to the point.” The man grunts and shifts up a little more, smiling that charming smile. “My name is Zevran, Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here for the sole purpose of slaying any surviving Grey Wardens. Which I have failed at, sadly.”

Antiva. Raven knows even less of the country then Orlais, and he turns to Marilyn for help. “Antivan Crows?”

Zevran opens his mouth to answer, but Marylin beats him to it. “They’re a highly powerful assassin organization based in Antiva. From what I know of them, they’r ruthless and will pretty much kill any target for any buyer if the price is good enough.”

“You would be correct, fair lady.” Zevran grins again, and Marilyn just laughs under her breath.

“Ah.” Raven murmurs. “Well, I for one am rather happy you failed.”

“So would I be, in your shoes. For me, however, it sets a rather poor precedent, doesn’t it? Getting captured by one’s target seems a tad detremendrial to one’s budding assassin career.” Zevran laughs at his own joke.

“You came all the way from Antiva?” Marilyn asks, running a hand through her hair.

“Not precisely. I was in the neighbourhood when the offer came. The Crows get around, you see.” Zevran grins again.

Raven can’t really tell if he finds Zevran’s flippantness about the situation annoying or endearing, but either way, his patience with said situation is wearing thin. “Who hired you?”

“A rather taciturn fellow in the capital. Loghain, I think his name was? Yes, that’s it,” Zevran replies, and Raven groans.

“Wonderful. As if we didn’t have enough to deal with. Is Loghain fucking insane?” Raven turns to the others.

“We’re in the middle of a blight. What the hell does he hope to gain?” Alistair grumbles, eying Zevran while he speaks.

“I don’t know. Maybe Raven’s onto something with the insanity theory. No sane man says to himself, ‘You know, there’s darkspawn on my doorstep, but I want to get rid of the one group of people that can save my ass from them. Because, you know, logic.’” Marilyn scoffs.

“Or, maybe, he just wants to grab power while he can, and he believes he can handle the darkspawn on his own,” Leliana sighs.

Raven pinches the bridge of his nose, looking back at Zevran, who seems to have watched the exchange with interest. Marilyn’s eyes return to him as well, and she says, “And are you loyal to Loghain?”

“I have no idea what his issues are with you. The usual, I imagine. You threaten his power, yes?” Zevran tilts his head.

“Something like that,” Raven mutters.

Zevran chuckles, and continues, “Beyond that, no, I’m not loyal to him. I was contracted to perform a service.”

Out of curiousity, Raven asks, “How much were you paid?”

“I wasn’t paid anything. The Crows, however, were paid quite handsomely. Or so I understand. Which does make me as poor as a chantry mouse, come to think of it.” Zevran sighs. “Being an Antivan Crow isn’t for the ambitious, to be perfectly honest.”

“Then why be one?” Raven watches Zevran’s expression, which, quite unnervingly, hasn’t much changed the entire conversation. As if the man was wearing a mask— which isn’t all that surprising. Still, unnerving how well he wears it.

“Well, aside from a distinct lack of ambition, I suppose it’s because I wasn’t given much of a choice. The Crows bought me young. I was a bargain too, or so I’m led to believe.” Again, Zevran appears flippant, but… bought? No one deserves to be treated like an object. Despite his best efforts, sympathy curls in Raven’s stomach. He does his best to ignore it.

“But don’t let my sad story influence you.” Zevran chuckles once more. “The Crows aren’t so bad. They keep one well supplied: Wine, women, men. Whatever you happen to fancy.” Zevran’s eyes fix on Raven’s on that one, and Raven’s cheeks warm. “Though the whole severance package is garbage, let me tell you. If you were considering joining, I’d really think twice about it.”

Raven feels his lips twitch in amusement, and he fights it down. “When were you going to see Loghain next?”

“I wasn’t. If I had succeeded, I would have returned home and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results…If he didn’t already know. If I had failed, I would be dead. Or I should be, at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain, then.” Zevran gives that cheerful grin once more.

“If you had failed?” Raven arches an eyebrow.

Zevran smiles, almost sheepishly. “What can I say? I’m an eternal optimist. Although the chances of succeeding are a bit slim at this point!” He laughs, then the laugh trails off. “No, I don’t suppose you’d find that funny, would you?”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Raven sighs.

“Why not?” Zevran meets his eyes. “I wasn’t paid for silence. Not that I offered it for sale, preciously.”

“Aren’t you at least loyal to your employers?” Marilyn asks.

“Loyalty is an interesting concept. If you wish, and if you're done interrogating me, we can discuss it further.” Raven isn’t sure he likes where this is going.

“Alright, I’ll bite.” Marilyn shrugs her shoulders.

“Well, here’s the thing. I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That’s how it works. If you don’t kill me, the Crows will. Thing is, I like living. And you are obviously the sort to give the Crows pause. So let me serve you, instead.” Zevran’s eyes are unreadable.

“Can I expect the same amount of loyalty from you?” Marilyn asks dryly.

“I happen to be a very loyal person,” Zevran replies pertly. “Up until the point someone expects me to to die for failing.”

Marilyn chuckles. “Fair enough.”

“You must think I’m _royally_ stupid,” Raven growls.

“I think you’re royally tough to kill. I’m only _hoping_ that you’re stupid.” Zevran grins, but at Raven’s expression, the smile dims. “That was a joke,” he clarifies. “Let me rephrase that. I’m hoping that you’re the sort of fellow that takes a chance every now and then, yes?” He laughs, a little awkwardly.

“And what’s to stop you from finishing the job later?” Raven arches his eyebrow. “I rather like living too, you know.”

Zevran chuckles. “But of course. Like I said, I was never really given much choice regarding the Crows. I think I’ve paid my worth back to them, plus tenfold. The only way out, however, is to sign up with someone they can’t touch. Even if I did kill you now, they might just kill me on principle for failing the first time. Honestly, I’d rather just take my chances with you.”

“Won’t they come after you?” Marilyn asks.

“Possibly. I happen to know their wily ways, however. I can protect myself, as well as you. Not that you seem to need much protecting.” He eyes Marilyn’s bloodied sword, and Marilyn grins. “And if not, well, it’s not as if I had many alternatives to start with, is it?”

“What do you want in return?” Raven leans on his own sword, staring Zevran down.

“Well… Let’s see. Being able to live would be nice, and would also make me marginally more useful to you. And somewhere down the line, if you should decide that you no longer have need of me, then I go my way. Until then, I am yours. Is that fair?”

Raven sighs, and looks to Marilyn. “I don’t know,” she says, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I say we keep him, Spice.”

“Marilyn, you can’t _keep_ people.” Raven crinkles his nose, irrtation flaring.

“I wouldn’t mind being kept,” Zevran pipes up, wiggling his eyebrows, and Raven huffs.

Raven looks at Zevran, weighing his options. He doesn’t much care for the idea of an assassin traveling with them, but Zevran’s skills were impressive (He’s probably going to have a scar to prove it). Zevran had a point too—What real point was there in finishing the job?

Then again, Zevran could be spinning a tale.

“I don’t know,” Raven sighs.

“We need all the help we can get,” Marilyn points out. “We could use his skills.”

“Wait, hold on, we’re not seriously considering taking the _assassin_ with us?!” Alistair finally speaks up, frowning. “Does that really seem like a good idea?”

“We _could_ use him.” Raven eyes Zevran again.

“We could apparently use a swift kick to the head, too, but you don’t see me going around asking for one.” Alistair all but pouts.

“If you want to kill him, Alistair, then be my guest.”

“I… Well, no. I suppose we could use all the help we could get. Still, if there was a sign we were desperate, I think it just knocked on the door and said hello,” Alistair grumbles.

“Are you sure the sign we were desperate wasn’t our whole plan?” Raven replies dryly.

Alistair snorts. “You have a point.”

Raven looks at Zevran. “Alright.” He sighs. “We accept your offer.”

Zevran grins. “A fine decision on your part.”

“Welcome, Zevran,” Leliana says with a kind smile. “Having an Antivan crow join us sounds like a fine plan.”

“Oh?” Zevran directs his attention to her. “Are you another companion to be, then? I wasn’t aware such loveliness existed amongst adventurers, truly.” Raven rolls his eyes at Zevran’s words, and Leliana doesn’t seem all that amused either.

“Or maybe not.” Her expression flattens, and Raven resists the urge to laugh.

With a final, reluctant sigh, Raven leans down and pulls out his dagger. He cuts Zevran free of the ropes, then holds out a hand to help him up. Zevran accepts the offer, and after being pulled to his feet, he looks Raven right in the eye. “I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you, until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation. This, I swear.” He briefly bows his head.

Raven nods, glancing at the others. “Yeah. Okay,” he murmurs.

“I’m afraid I still don’t know your names.” Zevran smiles. “Shall I just call you all Warden?”

Raven snorts a bit. “I’m Raven. This is Marilyn, Alistair, and Leliana.” Cyri barks, as if to remind Raven to include him. Raven chuckles and says, “And Cyri.”

“We should retrieve Sten and Morrigan, too,” Marilyn points out. “Unless they just assumed we died and left, in which case…”

Raven lets out a long-suffering sigh and walks toward the fallen tree. “Okay, let’s go.”

 

***

Raven hates traveling.

He decides this on their third day of marching. He had barely left the Alienage before this whole mess, and he’s starting to think he shouldn’t have. For all his fantasies of exploring the world, the reality of sweat trickling down his armor and the sun bearing down on them dashed those ideas.

That’s fine. If he survives this madness, he’ll go back to his original plan: Hiding in his room until the sun goes away.

Raven brushes his sweaty hair out of his eyes. That’s another thing he hates— Being _sweaty_. On days where they couldn’t afford to bathe, he’d spend as much time as possible inside or in the shade to avoid sweat.

The good news? They have one more day before they hit Redcliffe.

The bad news? He has to endure this for another fucking day.

Raven looks to his left at Zevran, who doesn’t seem to be all that pleased either. Raven still isn’t sure how to feel about the man, and in his uncertainty, finds himself more jumpy and paranoid than usual. He’s half convinced this was a terrible idea, but in the skirmishes they’ve encountered with bandits and pockets of darkspawn, Zevran does seem to be proving his skill. As if sensing he’s the subject of Raven’s thoughts, Zevran looks over at him and smirks. Raven rolls his eyes and looks away.  

Alistair falls into stride next to him at that moment, looking nervous and uncertain.  Marilyn is at Alistair’s other side, a confused and slightly concerned look on her face. “Look, um,” Alistair begins, biting his lip. “I need to talk to you both about um. Something I probably should have told you before.”

“You’re going to tell us you’re secretly orlesian.” Marilyn grins, blue eyes sparkling.

Alistair blinks at her, but Raven can see the pull of a smile on his lips and the blush on his cheeks. “No, far less exciting.” He laughs, and so does she.

Raven chuckles and gently knocks his shoulder against Alistair’s. “What’s on your mind?”

“I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle, and he took me in?” Raven nods, remembering Alistair saying it. “The reason he did that was because, well… Because my father was King Maric.” Raven stops walking, choking on his own spit from shock and trying to cover it with a cough. Marilyn stops as well, blinking rapidly. “Which made Calian my half-brother, I suppose,” Alistair finishes, fiddling with his hands.

Both Raven and Marilyn are quiet for a moment, before Marilyn says, “You’re having us on. You’re a fucking prince?”

Alistair waves his hand. “No, I’m a Grey Warden. I just have...Royal blood, I suppose. But I don’t want to be treated as some... prince. I just want to be treated as me. Alistair. Bringer of bad jokes and equally bad food.”

Raven can’t help the laugh that escapes his mouth. “So you’re not just a bastard...But a _royal_ bastard?”

Alistair’s tense shoulders relax slightly and he laughs too. “I guess I am at that.” He laughs a little more, adding, “We should use that line more often.” Then he sighs. “I would’ve told you, but… It never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Calian’s rule, and so they kept me secret. I’ve never talked about it with anyone. Everyone who knew either resented me for it, or they coddled me… Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn’t want you to know, as long as possible. I’m sorry.”

Raven’s eyebrows furrow. “I… Think I understand.” On one hand, if he was Alistair, he isn’t sure he wouldn’t use being the _King’s son_ to his advantage. Then again, Alistair doesn’t seem like the type to do that, and Raven can understand not wanting to be viewed differently for it.

Marilyn smiles from Alistair’s other side and bumps against him, eyes soft. “Yeah, thanks for finally telling us, you oaf.”

Alistair laughs and relaxes fully. “You’re welcome.” The smile he gives Marilyn is cheeky, and she rolls her eyes at him dramatically. “It’s not like I got special treatment for it, anyhow. At any rate, that’s it, that’s what I had to tell you. I thought you should know about it.” He scratches the back of his neck, smiling awkwardly.

Marilyn doesn’t seem interested in letting him off that easy, and she grins and says, “Are you sure?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “Not hiding anything else?”

“Besides my unholy love of fine cheeses and a minor obsession with my hair, no. That’s it. Just the prince thing.” Alistair wiggles his eyebrows back, and Raven snorts at the both of them. “So… Can we move on?”

Raven’s ears twitch as he replies, “As you command… My prince.”

“Oh, lovely. I’m going to regret this. Somehow I just know it.”

***

The town and the castle of Redcliffe were both in their sights, the morning air cool as they hiked down the well-beaten path to their destination. Redcliffe seems to have been carved into the hillside with attentive hands, waterfalls and rivers abounding. It’s quite a sight— But Raven doesn’t like how eerily quiet it is. Even Lothering was buzzing with an anxious energy, and Denerim certainly never silenced. But Redcliffe was hushed, even the wildlife appearing absent. It’s as if the whole area is holding its breath in apprehension.

Marilyn leads them down the path, her eyes fixed firmly on the single man standing near the entrance to town. The man is fiddling with his fingers, staring at them anxiously and rocking on his heels.

Raven frowns, fiddling with one of the health potions on his belt as they come to stand in front of the man. “I-I thought I saw travelers coming down the road, th-though I scarcely believed it,” the man says, his voice shaky. His eyes are filled with tentative hope as he says, “Have you come to help us?”

“What do you mean? Is there a problem?” Marilyn’s hand comes to rest on the hilt of the sword at her side, her voice becoming firmer and more authoritative than what Raven has come to expect from her. Her body language changes too, her back straightening and her shoulders setting.

The man’s eyes widen and he says, “So you… Don’t know? Has no one out there heard?” His voice rises in pitch, desperate.

Marilyn’s eyes narrow. “I heard Arl Eamon was sick, if that’s what you mean.”

“He could be dead for all we know!” The man cries, near hysterics. “Nobody’s heard from the castle in _days_! We’re under attack. Monsters come out of the castle every night and attack us until dawn. Everyone’s been fighting. And _dying_.”

“Well, that’s just typical, isn’t it?” Zevran sighs.

“Apparently everyone seems to agree that a Blight is the perfect time to start killing each other. Marvelous, really,” Morrigan comments, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve no army to defend us, and no king to send us help. So many are dead, and those that are left are terrified their next!” The man runs a hand through his hair, shaking like a leaf.

“Hold on. What is this evil that’s attacking you?” Alistair asks.

“I... I don’t rightly know; I’m sorry. Nobody does. I should take you to Bann Teagon. He’s all that’s holding us together. He’ll want to see you.” The man gestures anxiously as he speaks.

Alistair walks up, standing by Marilyn’s side as he says, “Bann Teagon? Arl Eamon’s brother? He’s here?”

“Yes. It’s not far, if you’ll come with me.”

Raven sighs as the man starts leading them down the path. “Should’ve known things wouldn’t be so simple.”

“Hey, now you’re catching on.” Marilyn grins at him, ruffling his hair before following the man into Redcliffe.

Redcliffe itself is a mess. Most of the buildings have suffered damage, boards ripped out and windows broken. The people are fearful, the tension in the air thick as clotted blood. Adults sharpen swords, spar, and shoot arrows at targets, but the arrows miss and the ones sparring fall often. Some of the people look at them, a mixture of hope and desperation in their eyes. Most people seem too distracted to care. One man is running around, calling someone's name and sobbing.

“Ah! What a lovely little fishing town!” Zevran remarks as they approach the chantry. “You can almost smell the desperation of the local gentry, no?”

Raven chuckles dryly, walking up the steps. “This place is a mess.” Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Zev smile with what looks like accomplishment.

“Indeed.”

The chantry itself seems to have become a shelter of sorts, judging from the amount of children and families piled inside. Many of them are injured, priests carefully tending to children’s wounds. The man leads them to the back, where he introduces them to Bann Teagon.

Teagon is hagrid, clearly worn down and exhausted. His eyes are red-rimmed and sunken, and as he fills them in on the situation, Raven can understand why. The only time Teagon smiled during the whole conversation was when Alistair caught his attention.

Though the fact that Teagon didn’t believe a shred of Loghain’s lies was good news, the situation in Redcliffe is anything but. While Redcliffe’s numbers diminished, Redcliffe’s attackers only grew in numbers. There were no reinforcements coming—in fact, it seemed their merry band of misfits were to be the reinforcements.

Teagon asks them for help, eyes desperate, and Marilyn’s eyes slide to Raven’s. Alistair is clearly on board, and it seemed to Raven that Marilyn is too. “I say we help,” Raven says. “We need Eamon, and the Grey Wardens are meant to protect people. No sense in letting them die.”

Marilyn gives a firm nod as if she agrees and turns to Teagon. “Bring us up to speed.” Teagon informs of them of the situation and tells them who they can talk to, eyes bright with renewed hope.

Raven feels good about that. Not so good about their chances, but, well. One step at a time.

Teagon directs them toward the mayor and a knight called Ser Perth. “We should talk to the Mayor first.” Raven suggests as they walk out the chantry. “He probably knows the most about what’s going on.” Marilyn gives a nod of agreement.

Turns out, the mayor is a fucking dick.

Somewhere around Mayor Murdock making sly comments both about the Grey Warden’s supposed murder of the king and Raven’s pointed ears, Raven loses all semblance of pity. Raven’s arms cross as he says, “Where have you fucked up and what do we need to do?” His voice is curt.

Alistair quickly cuts in before Murdock can react. “What my friend here means to say is, how can we help?” Alistair sends him a look, and Raven shrugs.

“How’s morale?” Marilyn asks.

“Morale’s about what you’d expect.” Murdock eyes Raven as he speaks, eventually looking at Marilyn. “These men aren’t soldiers. They’re men defending their home, and they’re frightened. It would help if we had some decent equipment. There weren’t enough swords in Owen’s shop, and the men’s armor is nearly falling off. I don’t think we’re in any shape to fight.” He sighs. “We’ll do our best, of course, but… Well, I have my doubts. I just hope I’m alive tomorrow morning.”

Marilyn nods slowly. She asks a few more questions, her eyes focused and calculating. Finally, she says, “What can we do?”

“We need what little armor and weapons we got repaired, and quickly, or half of us will be fighting without either. Owen’s the only blacksmith who can do it, but the stubborn fool refuses to even talk. If we’re to be ready for tonight, we need that crotchety bastard’s help.”

“Why does he refuse to talk?”

“His daughter, Valena, is one of the arlessa’s maids. So he hasn’t heard from her since this whole thing started. He demanded we attack the castle, break down the gate, and force our way in. I said it was impossible, but he wouldn’t listen. He’s locked himself in the smithy now. I can’t force him to do repairs… He says he’d rather die first.” Murdock sighs, glancing toward what Raven assumes is the direction of the smithy. 

“Is there anything else we can do?” Raven frowns. He thought they were screwed before, but this… Well.

“We could use some extra bodies. Having a veteran like Dwyn in the militia would help a lot, but he flat out refuses,” Murdock sighs. “He’s a trader, a dwarf. Lives near the lake. Locked himself up in his home with some of his workers, he has, says he doesn’t need any of us. We could really use someone with his fighting experience, but he won’t come out.”

“Alright.” Marilyn uncrosses her arms and gives a small smile. “We’ll help all we can. Keep faith. We’ll get these people out alive.”

Murdock nods. “Right,” he mumbles, looking just a little more hopeful. “Let’s hope you’re right.”

They walk away, and Marilyn turns to look at them. “Okay. We only have so much time before nightfall, so let’s split up. Leliana, Alistair, do you think you could go to the chantry and see how we can help there? The Chantry is the most vulnerable, and if there’s anything we can do to remedy that, do it.” Alistair nods, and Marilyn gives a brief smile. “Sten, you know war.” A stoic nod. “Come with me to see Ser Perth and see what we can do to help there.” A second stoic nod, and Raven briefly wonders if the man even _has_ emotions.

Marilyn turns to him, and says, “Raven, see what you can do about that blacksmith and the veteran. Take Zevran with you.” To Zevran himself she says, “In your line of work, you need to know people.”

He grins. “Right you are about that.”

“Good. Use that. And if you can’t charm them into helping, I’m sure Raven has a few tricks up his sleeve.” She sends Raven a grin, and he can’t help but smile back. Finally, to Morrigan, she says, “Do you have any spells that can be used to protect the town, or something defensive we can cast on the militia? Anything along those lines?”

Morrigan pauses for a moment, then says slowly, “I may have something.”

“Then do it. And whatever else you can think of to help.” With that, they break off and Raven and Zevran (with Cyri trotting behind) head towards the blacksmith’s.

“Do you have any sort of plan, or are we just barging right in—“ Raven bangs on the front door of the smithy. “I suppose my question has been answered.” Zevran’s lips twitch, amused.

“Go away! Curse you!” There’s shouting from within, the man’s voice rough and his words slurred. “Leave me in peace! You’ve already taken everything from my stores, there's nothing left!”

“Is this Owen, the blacksmith?” Raven asks through the door. “I need to speak with you.”

“Oh? Who is that? What do you want? I’ve been through enough…”

“I need to talk to you about repairs for the militia.” Raven crosses his arms, looking over at Zevran. The other man is leaning against the wall, arms crossed and eyebrow arched.

“That so? Well, if Murdock wants more weapons, you can give him the same answer I did: He can make them himself.”

 _Stubborn makerdamned foo_ l— “I just need to talk to you,” Raven growls through gritted teeth. “Please.”

A heavy sigh, then, “Fine, alright. Don’t know why you're so determined. Let me get the locks.”

While Owen fumbles with the locks inside, Raven grumbles under his breath, “I wonder. Not like people’s lives are in danger here, or anything.”

Zevran snorts as he pushes off the wall, then wrinkles his nose as the door swings open. Raven does the same—the potent smell of alcohol pouring from within is overwhelming. Raven steps in, Zevran just behind him. “Quite pleasant,” Zevran remarks dryly.

“So I let you in. You wanted to talk, now we’re talking. Mind telling me who you are? You didn’t sound like _elves_ through the door.” Owen leans the wall, crossing his arms and wrinkling his nose distastefully.

“Maker’s breath,” Raven mumbles, eyes drifting to the ceiling as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Look, just. My name is Raven, I’m a Grey Warden, helping Bann Teagon.”

“A Grey Warden, huh?” Owen snorts. “Takes all kinds…” Raven’s temper flares again, and maybe catching on despite his intoxicated state, Owen quickly speaks again, “Anyhow. My name’s Owen, though you already know that. Care to join me as I get besotted, or is there something else you wanted?”

“Not very bright, is he?” Zevran murmurs to Raven, seemingly content to watch things unfold.

Raven hides a smile as he responds to Owen’s inquiry. “The Militia needs your help desperately.”

“Why should I help Murdock when he won’t help me, hmm?” Owen’s nose wrinkles, and Raven’s shoulders tense. “My girl, Valena, is one of the Arlessa’s maids and she’s trapped up there in the castle, but the mayor won’t send anyone for her. She’s been my life since my wife passed two years ago. Now she’s dead, or soon to be. I don’t care what happens to me, or the village, or _anyone!”_

“Okay.” Raven nods slowly, meeting Owen’s eyes. “I have to ask though, are you stupid, or just plain stubborn?”

“ _What?!_ ”

“You heard me.” Raven steps forward. “How do you think this,” he gestures to the mess of a blacksmith, “Helps your daughter at all?”

“I, well—“

“No one can help her if everyone’s dead. You realize that? If she’s alive, then you're condemning her to death. I’m going to that castle if we survive tonight, and I’ll look for her, but I can’t do that if everyone I’m trying to save dies because you were too fucking stupid to help them. This isn’t your decision to make. No one can help her right now—so pick up a hammer and make sure they fucking can.”

Silence falls over the smithy, and Owen stares at him for a long, painful moment. Then he licks dry lips and squares his shoulder. “Yeah. Yeah.” He frowns, nodding. “You’ve… You’ve got a point. But. But you’ll look for her? My daughter?”

“You have my word.” Raven relaxes, unfolding his arms.

“Then you’ve got a deal. Tell Murdock to send his men here.” Owen turns to the forge and says over his shoulder, “Unless you want to buy something, get outta my hair. I’ve got work to do, it seems.”

Raven smirks in satisfaction, giving a short nod. “Fair enough,” he responds, leaving with Zevran at his side.

After reporting the success to the mayor, the two head to Dwyn’s home. Raven eyes the lake as they walk there, watching the water. “Is something the matter?” Zevran’s voice knocks him out of the stupor he’s in, and he turns to meet bright gold eyes.

“Hm? Oh, no. I’ve just never gotten close to,” Raven gestures awkwardly at the lake, “Anything like that before.”

Zevran studies him, curiosity shining in his eyes. “No lakes where your from?”

Raven hesitates, then says, “Sorta. I never really left the inner city, and never traveled before this. I’m from Denerim. The alienage there. Denerim’s on the Amaranthine ocean, but I only ever got glimpses of it.”

“Oh?” Zevran’s smiling, but his expression is again, largely unreadable. “I confess, I am quite curious. If Fereldan alienages are anything like Antivan ones, there are not many opportunities for elves there, no? Certainly not to rise to the title of Grey Warden.”

Raven chuckles softly, “No, there really isn’t. I’m… Well. I suppose luck doesn’t have much to do with it, considering the circumstances.” His lips twitch in a small, sardonic smile, before he switches the topic. “What about where you're from? I know nothing about Antiva. Where did you grow up?”

“I hail from the great Antiva City.” Zevran smiles, and his voice sounds warmer now, more...excited, maybe. “It is much warmer in Antiva, your Fereldan is very cold.” Raven chuckles, nodding agreement. As if reminded of the colder weather by talking about it, Zevran shivers lightly, his ears pressing against his head. It’s… rather cute. “How do you _stand_ it?” His nose crinkles a little.

Raven snorts. “Fereldans are supposedly warm blooded. Personally, I prefer the cold to the heat. At least the cold can be fought against with blankets. The heat? It’s impossible to escape.”

“Unless you shed layers.” Zevran gives him a smirk and Raven rolls his eyes, feeling his face heat up.

“Even then! Then you’re just sweaty _and_ naked. It’s awful.” Raven pauses, then, “Well, I suppose in certain situations being sweaty and naked isn’t _that_ bad…”

Zevran full-on laughs, and Raven can’t help but chuckle along. “So you do have a sense of humor!” Zevran teases, and Raven laughs more.

“Forgive me for not letting it show after nearly being killed.” Raven retorts, smiling. Despite himself, Raven finds that he’s warming up to Zevran. He still wouldn’t trust the man as far as he could throw him, but… He does make for pleasant company.

Raven stops in front of their destination, looking the small house up and down. He knocks on the door, heaving a sigh when there’s no response. “Hello?” He calls. Nothing again, and Raven looks at Zevran. “Do you know how to pick the lock?”

Zevran eyes it. “It looks a little different from locks in Antiva, but I can give it a shot.” He kneels in front of the lock, pulling a small lock-pick set from his bag and getting to work. Raven watches anxiously, rocking on his heels and biting his nails. He hears Zevran mutter a few curses under his breath in what Raven presumes to be Antivan. A few minutes and several broken lockpicks later, Zevran huffs and steps away. “It’s jammed.” He’s glaring at the lock like the object has purposefully spited him.

“Well. Plan B, then,” Raven mutters, walking up to the door as Zevran steps back. He studies the lock for a moment, before stepping back and using the force of a sharp, downwards kick to break the lock off. Zevran chuckles, and Raven looks back to give him a wry smile, before pushing open the door.

“Wonderful. Intruders.” They’re greeted by a irritated, stout dwarf, flanked on either side by what seems like bodyguards. “I hope you’ve a good reason for breaking and entering into my home.”

“Apologies,” Raven says. “We don’t mean any harm.”

“Apology accepted. The name’s Dywn, pleased to meet you—now get out,” Dwyn grunts, arms crossing.

“Now, let’s not be hasty.” Zevran smiles, spreading his hands. “We have but a simple request in that you help with tonight’s battle.”

Dwyn snorts, glaring directly at Zevran now. “I told you what I told Murdock, I’m not risking my neck for this town.”

 _Is everyone in this town a fucking asshole?_ Raven bites down the words, instead glancing over at Zevran as he speaks again. “Are you sure there’s nothing that could change your mind..? Perhaps a good word with the arl?”

Dwyn perks up, looking intrigued now. “Really? You two could do that?”

“Considering I’m a Grey Warden currently in the process of saving his town, yeah,” Raven says dryly. “I think we could manage that.”

Dwyn nods slowly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll throw in with the Militia. _For now_. You better be there too, when the sun goes down. I’m not fighting for a lost cause, you hear me?”

Raven lets a smile slip onto his face.

“Loud and clear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and I sincerely hoped you enjoy~!  
> "Me and Raven are going to have a throwdown in an alley, and he's going to win because he is tall and stronk and I am small and fat and then i'm going to cry in an alley." -something I actually said while whining to my lovely best friend

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment telling me what you thought! Constructive criticism and opinions are always appreciated, (No hate please!) and kudos make my day!


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